The Twisted Truth
by maleV
Summary: Post RE6. AU. Piers makes it through China with the help of his captain only for more problems to arise. While away on mission, Captain Chris Redfield is deceived by his own side, proving what they've been after the entire time was right under their noses. What will he do to get 'it' back, and to what extent has it affected him? Nivanfield. M/M. Torture and Angst! Read warnings!
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to great wide world of RPG insanity. After doing enough RPGs and after writing enough fanfictions. I cam to realize I use the same writing style for both purposes, so! Rather than writing this one alone, I'd like to offer up half all creative processes and insanity to my RP partner: Morriganna (FF) or better known as mmori (Tumblr). I hope you all enjoy the first editted version, in hopes of making it seamless to you the reader's eye. **

* * *

Brazil... Chris was in Brazil.

In China, 2013, Captain Christopher Redfield had taken Piers' hand in the underwater basement facility, and pulled him from the depths. Infected and riddled with torn muscle; broken, shattered bones, and horrifically mutated body. Piers had made the choice then and there as his captain struggled for the access to the escape pods, staring at the destruction of his own person, that he would sooner die a man, than become the monsters he had always hunted. Peeling the B.S.A.A. patch from his own arm, wrestling and tearing it from the uniform, he allowed Chris the brief moment's respite before thrusting it into his hand. They were in a stands still, a moment, if watched enough times, would have seemed forever despite it lasting only a heart beat, shoving against his captain's human body with that hideous mutation. If Chris hadn't been the man he was, it may have played out. It may have been that Piers would have died down there, but instead, the young sniper, mutilated and diseased, was yanked full strength inside the pod with him, the doors closing behind them and carrying both of them to safety. To this day he rued the old warhorse's decision to bring him from his watery tomb back into the world. So much time had passed since then, that seemed like only seconds in the blink of an eye, Piers' only good eye...

Here in the end of the year... so many things had passed, but it was insane if that same man who saved him all those months ago without consent, ruining all hopes of a valiant end, thought Piers was going to let Chris make this decision for him. No. He'd nodded his head and given consent to Chris. Promised he didn't mind that the Captain was leaving on another mission, without him. He couldn't go on missions, not like this, a mangled version of what he had once been. Not without the sign off of H.Q., or without being debriefed in full. And of course overriding it all being the fact that the men of the B.S.A.A. would never allow a man taken over by the C-Virus, to compromise a mission, or rejoin his unit. According to the brass, Piers Nivans was no longer a soldier. They weren't happy when Chris had taken him from them, before they'd had a chance to snatch him up like a kid in a candy store for their researchers to collaborate over. An agent with the mutated C-Virus? Something they could possibly create an anti-virus with? No, he hadn't want to be some experiment, he knew Chris was right when it came to what was in store for him if he'd turned himself in, but he was a damned B.O.W., the things he fought to destroy his entire life, and in all honesty it was more than a bit disturbing. It was mentally taxing knowing that he could never leave this place, knowing he could never again be in field, knowing that if he was any kind of man he'd turn himself in and let his country do what it needed with the rest of him to try and find some way to be human again..., human again or at least some help to the world by letting them turn him into a petri dish for a cure. A cure or death. But this? This was purgatory.

The electricity that jumped and danced over and through his flesh, nipping at his finger tips whenever his heart rate jumped. The seizures that came whenever the virus threatened to spread, taking control of his eyes with a white blanketing blindness. The inability to use his right eye was hand in hand with that, a silver shining orb all that was left, without pupil or its remnant hazel color, just a huge saucer like a dead fish. All those things were just another reminder that he was now just the same kind of monster he'd always fought to defend his Captain from and now what? Those things were all disregarding the obvious. His arm. It reverted and grew a fleshy overskin, much like his older arm, and for those it was like a camouflage for fish, but whenever it hurt too badly it reared its head, reminding both him and his captain, he had no place here. And all that excluding the vicious helix of mutation that had lodged deep within his throat, undefinable in nature except that he felt it always there, tightening and clenching in his neck like an impending darkness. Chris had to hide him like some damn criminal, like an exotic pet that you can't legally own, or a viper you have o keep locked in a box away from the world it desperately wished to be a part of. He was a beta fish..., put him with the other fish, and he would kill them all.

So no, he agreed it was okay for Captain Redfield to go on yet another mission without him, but he had never agreed to stay imprisoned within the quiet haunting solitude of the house Chris called home, and Piers knew as prison. Swallowing back his pride, the younger man clenched his fist and stared down reaffirming at the fingers that shot pulses through his body at every heightened heart beat, white and blue tinted shocks jumping over his knuckles and walked through the doors. It was the right thing to do. Chris' feelings aside, his own feelings aside, this was what had to be done. He would die with honor until he died and he would not sit back and become another failed soldier. Fighting the urge to turn tail and run, the call of cowardice in his ear canals, the ace carded the fingers of his good hand through his hair at long last and stepped up to the desk... He'd done the B.S.A.A. one better than turning himself in, he'd borrowed Chris' pickup truck and driven the miles to H.Q.'s very own Quarantine facility outside Bethesda Naval Base. It would be better off this way. It would be better for Chris, to no longer have to concern himself with Piers' affairs or health, his chronic seizures, and gave him leave to get on with his life, instead of beating himself up about this shamble of a man being all that was left of his once robust partner. Yes he was still young, and made rash choices, and still physically strong thanks to the mutation in his blood; but Chris didn't need him around getting himself in deeper with H.Q. brass, because he wanted to take care of his sick puppy and make sure the world didn't touch him. It was too late for that. Apart from that, if they had the cure to this, if he didn't have to keep ruining Chris' life, if he could have any shred of reassurance of returning to Alpha Team. This was worth it.

* * *

Chris was in Brazil…in some remote jungle region where the South American branch of the B.S.A.A. found out about virus brokers who were selling different viral samples to terrorists in the area, hoping to incite some panic. Black market sons of bitches, always knew how to make Chris' life Hell. Chris knew H.Q. sent him here to deal with them so he would be away from Piers, using the look behind door number two technique to see if the veteran combat junkie would accept another one liner to get him out of the country. It was no secret that H.Q. wanted their hands on Piers; who wouldn't at this point, with their outbreaks of plagues diminishing populations of major cities to mere percentages of what they had once been. They wanted to experiment, find cures, analyze antibodies, but more importantly, experiment. There were other reason that Chris also felt that H.Q. would be hunting for reasons to get their hands on his partner the major one; find a way to replicate the mutated C-Virus to others 'for the benefit of the world'…a likely excuse from H.Q.. Yes he was the best man for the job, this job anyway. He was always the best man for the job, because Chris Redfield was a fucking powerhouse, and even on his own was capable of clearing out Kijuju, and China, with a single team mate by his side. If they had to pick a man for the job, it was going to be Chris, 9-0-9 in hand. Sons of bitches didn't have to make many excuses to get rid of him, farming him out to other branches to take care of their messes. Still he wasn't too eager to be here that was certain. Brazil wasn't just balmy, it was humid as Hell, and he had more important things to worry about. Things that included keeping his higher ups from trying to stick their fingers in the damn cookie jar.

Before leaving, Chris was adamant about Piers staying at home and waiting for him to return from his mission. He knew it would take no more than two weeks to get it done, three at tops if things got messy and by now it had already been three days, intel received and probing out the first fun bit of hunting down his marks. He made contact with a spy for the B.S.A.A., some anonymous cohort and informed on the details of where the next virus deal would go down, down to the exact coordinates to the degree. H.Q. gave him orders to collect any live virus samples and arrest any dealers that he hadn't taken out in the process. As far as Chris was consider black market traders weren't high on the list of bring in an question. They were generally sellers who didn't know the buyers or suppliers. The middle man to put it for short. The deal would take place in twelve days, exactly two days short of two weeks, which meant his estimate to Piers about returning in two weeks was promptly accurate. This gave him time to work the area. Use a scope, spot for buildings with possible overlookers, places where his security would have to be tight. With enough players in the game it might get hairy, but Chris wasn't one for backing down from a challenge. He was the master of covert operation by now, a few angry hostiles were the least of his worries. Give them chainsaws and bags over their heads, and he might flinch, but these people were petty small time crooks. H.Q.'s secretaries could have done this with their ball point pens.

While Chris was on the way to the location of the virus deal, winding the roads on a 4x4 that handled the bumps like smooth silk, he began to think about his last night with Piers before he left. He'd been so violently unhappy, the misgivings filling the air as he spent another night convincing Piers that this was all for the best. That there would be a time he would get H.Q. to return him to the field, but they would just have to be patient. As though Chris Redfield was a patient man. He was as antsy about the sniper ace returning to the field as he was leaving him alone for two weeks. There was no middle ground there, only another long list of reasons their jobs sucked. He'd calmed him down the only way that a man like Chris knew how. He was a man of action. The sex was rough and fast. Painful due to Piers complete lack of control over himself, his very skin shocking Chris repeatedly, threatening seizures on the fringes. The shocks were not enough to hurt badly, a normal person perhaps, but pain was the butter on Chris' bread, he ate it for breakfast. They caused a mixture of pleasure and pain. A mix that never made Chris uncomfortable in the throws of passion, giving Piers the ultimate reminder that he was a man in charge and the one captain. Quell that desire that built up inside them both when idle for too long. Piers was calm about sex, never was ever one for fully throwing himself into it, and in fact refused Chris most the time on any of his advances, but neither ignored that they shared feelings for each other. Still while they were together, throwing each other around like warring titans, what Piers did do was kiss at Chris' neck, his one moment of sweetness which transfigured while Chris had picked their heated pace, and bit it hard. Bit hard enough for it to bleed, his moist tongue licking the blood that pooled there. He didn't t think anything of it at the time due to the orgasmic high he was on, but it did come to mind now since the area has been bothering him a bit, rubbing his neck with the palm of his hand, and enjoying the relieved pain from the pressure he transferred through the tough. Chris was also feeling a bit 'off' since then, but that thought went on the backburner as nothing as he arrived at his destination. It was time to get to work. The sooner he took care of this, the sooner he could go back to Piers.

* * *

Divide and conquer. Wasn't that always the way of it? The Captain would be fine. He felt like shit about the other night, telling Chris that everything would be fine and he would see him as soon as he returned from Brazil. Perhaps he even would be, but it was time to stop worrying about all of that and give himself over to what was good and right. He had had every intention of leaving the very second Chris told him he was flying to Brazil. H.Q. intentionally liked sending Chris to problem areas, even though the man had made multiple requests time and time again not to be sent out of the country anymore. He was over forty and they had plenty of things to do here in the States without sending the captain away every other week to some undisclosed or remote areas in the far corners of the world. It was punishment for his blatant disrespect to the higher ups, disregarding them for a bunch of dusty old men in chairs. Still, he'd known from the moment he'd said those fateful words, he was going to wind up here. The slinky little nurse on his arm was leading him down another set of winding hall ways and being as nice as she possibly could be considering his once immaculate skin was now scarred with dark lines under his eye and down across his cheek, including the silver eye that could have been considered to look more like a dead fish's than his own eagle sharp hazels. Not to mention every minute more he spent inside this place without actually seeing a doctor made his blood pressure jack up and shock her like strong currants of static. She was muttering on in some vernacular he hardly wanted to comprehend, thinking on how he had deceived his partner for the eighth time today. He hadn't meant to do it intentionally, but lying with him, next to him, he couldn't tell him what his real intentions were, just lay there utterly spent in huge muscled arms. He couldn't help but let every part of his person being completely magnetized to Chris. At the time he was dying inside. He wanted to claim Chris, make the point that the captain belonged to him, that even after he had turned himself over there would be something of himself left to him. Even if it was Chris who was his Captain and in charge of their relationship. He'd damn near electrified his partner. The older man had that effect on him, always made his pulse race, which in turn made him surge with fangs of electricity, not nearly as damaging as his own teeth had been gnawing into Chris' shoulder.

It hadn't even take a grand total of thirty minutes of being sat down before they'd started in on Piers, but now it was getting daunting. He'd been there two days now, all of which were sporadic, frantic tests and work ups made as quickly and quietly as possible. Led from one room to another, like a sheep to slaughter, only they wanted to poke him with a stick first. The first two days were, everything under the sun days. Confirmations of confirmations about platelets and virus titers, and a physical examine while he answered one thousand questions on his medical health. Was he allergic to anything, how long could he run, did he have a history of any disease or mental illness they should be made aware of. He was working on mile three when they broke out the heavy guns and started asking him the more penetrating questions. Did he like how the virus felt? Could he feel it inside him? How did he conceal the mutation? Was his arm the only mutation? Did captain Redfield know he was still infect? That was on day three. Days four and five were lab days again. Tox screens, mission histories, skin samples from five different parts of his body, marrow samples. That had all been painful, but Piers could take pain. Today was day seven. A full week of being the lab's prized possession and he was informed by a man who had come by from H.Q. that he was in the best hands available, rambling on about the leaps and bounds of progress they could make if he signed off on their procedures they intended to consider. They'd been asking since day one for him to sign his legal proxy over to the B.S.A.A. so they could make his legal and medical decisions. It was the one reservation that Piers had about all the things they had asked him, signing off on experimentation. The representative was still at it, talking about how they couldn't properly consider options for a cure without first examining the possible outcomes or experimenting on the mutation itself because they were unaware of its nature. More legal jargon bullshit, but... it was also true. "Hand me the papers." That had been yesterday.

Today it seemed every doctor in the facility were already fighting over him outside that door; a matter of who got dibs on which experiment came first. Their voices were muffled to a dull roar outside his room. He felt like he was at auction, but so far as prizes went, his was like a circus. Throw a basketball till you hit the under sized hoop and pay out more than you have to give. His body was resisting every little notion they were throwing at each other, hearing incredulous scoffs and sneers over who's test sounded more unreasonable and it made his skin shiver and electric pulse between his fingers, perched sedentary and antsy under the scrutiny of lime lights. It wasn't until the doctor from the day before of running tests on his physical condition, joined him in the room that he was starting to feel the part of a fly under the microscope. She was tying off a band around his bicep to his right arm, avoiding the lines of white static charge that jumped with his pulse before tying off a rather large knot. "You've got to stop worrying Mr. Nivans... you are allowing your heart rate to raise... it makes me job very difficult." She was a prep doctor, or at least that's what it seemed like. The one that was there for all the tests to take the samples to the labs, and extract important vitals from his monitors. He shocked her three times the first day. She'd learned the tactic to avoiding it since he'd been relatively calm all that day. More like the feeling when you have a charge and then touch the room of your car getting out and it leaves you shaking your hand a few times to rid yourself of the sting. She smelled like lavender. It was nice. Though he wasn't keen on the syringes that were beside her on the prep tray. "Don't worry, just getting prepared. We're going to try something a little different today, Mr. Nivans. Very exciting. Just have to make sure that you aren't going to shock the other doctors while they're trying to work. Alright? So please try to relax. This should stop the shocks for a few hours... something we've used before in cancer patients and the like."

Her yammering didn't bother him, the tinkling of her badge on her chest a nice distraction from the tapping of her nail on the first syringe getting their air bubbles to the top. This wasn't his ideal, but stopping the shocks.., he could live with that most definitely. They'd taken enough fluids from him in the last 72 hours that this was becoming almost bearable. Waiting for a vein, the girl flicked his forearm, watching the dance of electric follow her touches after every other flick before lining up the needle over the darkening vein, circulation suffering from the rubber tourniquet. Stabbing into his flesh, Piers sucked in a breath quickly, hearing the voices in the other room die down, everything smooth until her thumb touched he syringe's plunger. His entire body surged in rejection to what she was doing, a jolt of lightning sourcing off his arm and up through her fingers, dropping her like a fly who'd hit the electric lamp. Oh please don't be dead... Piers gasped reaching out and ripping the needle from his arm, hoping to check the woman on the ground who's breathing only got more and more shallow as he dropped off the examine table, searching fro a pulse. "Some one! Get in here!" Hell the place was full of doctors wasn't it? She wasn't going to die, not from that little spark. He'd done worse to Chris the other night, she should be fine right? As the doors opened, every eye was on him. No, every damn eye was locked on that stupid arm, the way it shifted under his own skin, pulsing and darkening from his racing pulse as he searched the young woman for a heart beat. They were just fucking standing there watching him struggle to pump life back into her chest. His arm throbbed painful under the scrutiny, swallowing his fear when finally someone came round the side, resuming where he'd left off and immediately finding her vitals. They were mumbling talking, but Piers couldn't hear them passed the rush of blood to his head, in his ears, making his body heat and fever while that thing threatened to show them what a real monster he was, the muscle pulsing and causing him to wince.

After that it was full work ups. Every single test imaginable and repeated original tests. More; running, breathing, blood, urine analysis, bone samples, skin biopsies. Tip of the iceberg. Chris' voice resounded in his head for hours, days, as he watched a lanky older fellow examining his scalpel. The girl was alright, she had a minor cardiac trauma thanks to his overloaded senses and the C-Virus orchestrating his stay here. 'They'll turn you into a monster, Piers. They wouldn't ever let you go. Do not go there.' Biting his pouted lip, his eyes scrunched closed briefly. Trying more than ever to relax, so this man wouldn't wind up with the same fate. He was old enough not to survive a cardiac trauma. "Aren't you going to... I don't know give me something before that?" He was eying the scalpel warily. He'd been informed that today they would be examining the tissue of his mutated arm, the foreskin and mutated flesh. The first time they'd even suggested getting involved with it. But there was talk about getting more 'aggressive' with his 'treatment' now, and that meant more aggressive tests as well. He wasn't even sure what sampling his flesh really meant. He'd already had biopsies done, wasn't that enough. Not biopsies of his mutated flesh, but... why couldn't they at least talk to him. His other doctor had talked to him. The labcoat was just staring at his right arm like it was a chicken breast he wanted to fillet, and he was starting to feel extreme anxiety gripping into his fingers. "A local?" Considering the tests he thought he'd been a good patient. Up until now, they'd been running him with tests non-stop for almost twenty-four hours. It may have been longer honestly, but they had no clocks in the room they had him in and they had decided for his own good that it was better he didn't know what day it was. They'd been normal tests, ones he'd had to do before joining up. But what the hell, why was that guy staring at him like that? "Something to kill the pain?"

"Of course not, it would hinder the process."

"What process exactly?"

Hinder the process? Shifting on the plastic topped gurney, he tipped his weight away from the doctor, discomfort etching on his watched the man looking at him so adamantly unconcerned, like a mouse being eyed by a cat. his whiskers made him hard to understand, and Piers was starting to be reminded of a grandfathered version of Hitler, judging by the accent that muddle his speech patterns. "We are looking to identify what maintains the camouflage of your outer layer of skin a whole." Just the pattering of his heart in his chest was making sparks jump between his fingertips, and by observing the white haired old crone it was exactly what he was hoping for. Piers unhappiness and controlled features shifting to insecurity made the doctor peel his upper lip over his teeth, and short 'tsk' noise issuing through a hiss of spittle and enamel. "Sit back now. I'm going to make a few incisions, three or four, to gauge where the mutation has extended to beneath your shoulder, and then we'll start from there."

"It's electrified all over, if you slice into me I won't be able to stop that from happening..., that won't prove anything."

"Young man, if you won't hold still, I'll have you restrained." The doctor didn't wait for a response, two fingers raised for the camera to see and then a room full of people, their foreign hands clinging and grasping to him, holding him down, yanking his limbs out straight ignoring his protests. Huge straps people saw in the movies for looney bins choking his ankles, straps on the legs, wrists, yanking him until he was splayed out for everyone to see, licks of sparks trailing down his arm and into his fingers, dancing across his other skin while Piers couldn't help the tenor cry that issued from the pulse of electric trampling through his system with an untold force, trying to control the virus threatening mutation, and destruction. "LET ME GO!" The sparks flew out and instantly there was people talking, observing, note pads being scribbled on as they all lined up on his right side, awaiting the risen scalpel.

* * *

Chris stationed himself accordingly at the location where the black market deal would transpire. A week of observations and longer had earned him all the information he needed on the location, and his contact had been vastly forthcoming about those that would be brokering the deal with the terrorists: Jessica Sherawat. When Chris heard her name, he felt incredible amounts of anger and hatred build in his chest. That bitch betrayed everyone for Tricell and had damned near killed him more than once. He knew when she escaped that he wasn't done with her story, that someday their paths would meet again but he hadn't realized he be so fortunate to be the one that was going to bring her in. He wanted to snap her neck for what she did to him, but he'd settle for 'interrogation' and a swift dismemberment from the company. Chris waited patiently for the last two hours for the scum to arrive. Always arrive ahead of schedule, make certain nothing went askew, or deviated from the plan. A good thing too because more often than not these kinds of scheduled drops meant trouble and a quick change of destination or time. Black market terrorists were a finicky bunch, you could never be certain of what they were willing to do in a pinch. Jessica and two other unnamed suspected terrorists arrived in different vehicles. A black hummer (how very original), and the other in an unmarked red, S.U.V.. Both left their vehicles running in case they needed to make a quick getaway, drivers poised in their seats ready to go on the drop of a hat. Keeping to the plan, Chris kept his distance, assault rifle trained on the area while he marked each face, knowingly searching for Jessica. Part of his deal with the government was that he would have her in custody, but only so long as they had evidence of the transaction that occurred. Meaning the virus had to change hands. Watching them move confidently toward the center of the clearing both flashed their given briefcases, their only leverage for existence, and they began to discuss the terms; viruses and the cost for each vial.

He could hear them perfectly from where he was located, receivers set up and recording from their location to provide him with the perfect evidence of Jessica's treachery. If he took the time to notice, he would have known though that there was no way he should have been able to hear them with the roar of the engines in the area, or the distance he was from the scene. But then adrenaline did amazing things to the human body, and Chris was prepared for everything. After watching the exchange Chris had all he needed, moving in from his location and tapping his com device. "This is Redfield. Hostiles in my sights, keep a medical team on stand by... They're gonna need it." He decided to go for the direct approach. Never was one for covert operations, even if they claimed he was good at it. For forty years old he was moving like a twenty year old, his body and skill giving him a clean run from location to location until he came up behind the closest security outfit. Unnecessary to bring them in, they new shit. Slinking up from behind, Chris' rough palms snapped to each side of the latino's head, snapping his neck effortlessly. His partner cried out the alarm. Going for the grab of the machine gun round his neck, to shoot at Chris. Punching in his head so hard that his skull was carved into his brain, he died instantly. Snorting while he flicked the guts off his hand with disdain. Four shots, double taps, one in the first driver, another in the second, doors hanging wide open where the recipient of the virus was scrambling inside his S.U.V. ducking down from the gun fire. Two more shots, the engine sputtered and blew out. Finally, it was Jessica who was left quaking in her Prada heels and sputtering out a cover as quick as she could manifest one, Chris' heavy boots carrying him through the mess, with his arm covered with blood from hand to elbow.

"Chris, what a wonderful surprise!" Jessica stammered, backing away from those brutish movements. "I can't believe they sent you in on this assignment, a happy coincidence! I've been trying to work my way into this ring for months, the government thought someone was peddling the C-Virus out here and I thought who better than to make them show there heads!?"

She continued readily as she slowly dropped her nail polish clad slim fingered hand for her handgun. Chris looking at Jessica as if she was insane simply leaned forward at the waist, eyes narrowing, "Save it, luckily for you, I am here to arrest you, instead of giving you what you deserve." He began to move towards Jessica when she hoisted her revolver, firing her gun at him. Chris was able to barely dodge it but after fighting in every continent he'd learned a woman with a shaky hand wasn't ever able to raise it faster than he was able to dodge it; and he tackled her to the ground. The ground came to meet her so hard and fast the ripple effect of several bones breaking in her flimsy ribcage and curvy limbs. At least one arm was broken and two ribs, she was sputtering blood up on his face. Internal bleeding. He wasn't sorry. He'd goaded her into doing it, he knew she'd fire and once she had it was all his game from there. No one could say it was anything but self defense, but he was surprised her form was so weak in his arms that she'd broken to tiny pieces. Fragile little thing, human life. Jessica knew she was going to die, due to her injuries or from a bullet wound to the head, so she took a look at Chris for the last time, with spite on her tongue, readied and armed to thrash his core with her revolations of horror about him. As though he'd never heard that before. Every 'bad guy' he brought down made the same accusations that Chris' world would come tumbling down, and all his 'naive' illusions of grandeur would shrivel before his eyes into a pile of spam. He met her stare, prepared to shut her up with a fist to her teeth when she met his stare, eyes melting to saucers and screaming like a five year old child in the face of their greatest nightmare. Jessica coughed up crimson blood, bubbling from her throat, filling her words with a gargled whine, managing out only a last word, one that would probably haunt him from Raccoon until he died. "…Wesk…er…" Chris did not understand what happened and how Jessica could have died like that, from shock? But her eyes rolled into her skull and and mouth agape, smeared with blood and rouge. He shook his head, grabbed the samples that weren't broken. Finger brushed his temple, hitting the com link. "We're gonna need a clean up crew down here..."

...

Chris returned to the B.S.A.A. North American Headquarters early the next morning 0400. With the virus samples turned in and secured by the chain of command, he had nothing left to do other than give his full report to the brass. They were listening through his recon with steepled fingers, nodding their aged old faces and regarding his explanation of the terrorists deaths as each one being easily accountable. As he gave his report, he didn' fail to take notice that they were all looking at him oddly and a couple of them even smirked at him as he made quick work of the nature of the drop known to them, and Tricell's involvement in the matter. He did not understand why a couple of the higher-ups were smirking at him, they had as much on the line as he did if with this kind of botched intel. They needed to know more about it, and as soon as he was finished he wasn't expecting smiles, but perhaps a reasoning behind why they all seemed so content to sit their like a bag of old bones collecting dust. As he gave the ending of his report and handed over the paperwork that followed, he couldn't help but empty the silence in the room with his own inquisition. "Is there something the matter director? Tricell's involvement..., meaning they were there at all, it could have a lot more implications than just a botched up viral trade off. They had a lot of ties in the government."

"We'll deal with the next step of the job Captain. We have received your report and applaud you. Job well done. The B.S.A.A. is lucky to have an agent as skilled as yourself to send on these kinds of missions. We appreciate your discretion on the matter. There's been a few incidents which require further information before we can act further on the mater, but until then we accept your hard work Captain." Chris gave an uncomfortable slow nod, putting out his hand and clasping it with the chairman, who had a shake like a paper doll. Turning on his heel, and near exiting the room, he headed for the door with one foot out when he heard himself being addressed again. "We appreciate your cooperation in the other matter as well Captain. It is time that we got all this mess out of the way." Brows furrowed, a quick snap of the head and Chris was back within the room, spotting the sly little smile on the raisin's old face, looking up rather matter-of-fact in Chris' regard. "About Agent Nivans?" Nothing registered, just further narrowing of mahagony eyes that threatened death if someone didn't attest to what that man was talking about in the thirty seconds. "We're just pleased is all captain, that you finally convinced Agent Nivans to turn himself in for examination and full debriefing. We'd started to loose out patience on the matter until he showed up rather unexpectedly at our door step. Your doing I imagine? We can now do the research that we need to do in regards to the C-Virus strain Agent Nivans has. Our gratitude Captain Redfield." There it was again, that sly grin, spiteful and wicked, testing Chris to see if his fury was cut loose. They wanted him to break, wanted to give them a reason to suspend him.

Chris was in shock at what was said to him hatred boiling deep down into his veins as he felt betrayal coil in his gut and plastered the table with his fist, the entire hing jumping up and splinting at the force of it. He could not believe what he was just told by H.Q. Those sons of bitches, those goddamn bastards knew full well what they were doing, trying to goad him into hitting one of them for answers. "WHERE?!" Piers was taken from him? Piers left him? He was confused, furious at the news, laughing eyes watching his outrage like a comical show.

"Agent Nivans went to quarantine on his own, he wasn't forced Captain," General Stephens answered.

"That can't be true, I refuse to believe it! Piers isn't some experiment, he's one of your best agents. You know full well what they'll do to him in there!" Chris bellowed, his roar filling the room, shoving a finger in the general's face that could have been used to choke the life out of the man. "I want Piers returned to me right now! I have given EVERYTHING to the B.S.A.A., EVERYTHING! AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?! I asked you to do one thing for me director, one thing! How many years of faithful service? I've lost myself in this job and do everything at your beckon, and all I asked, all I asked was you leave Piers out of it. He's a Goddamn hero!" Chris went right up to the Generals with his demands and was screaming at them, feeling their breath on his face while he accused and demanded. He was so into the action that he failed to notice other soldiers coming up behind him. "He saved his entire country and you're going to cage him up... like..., like some animal! He thinks he's doing good for you people, we both know that's wrong. Those monsters in research are going to destroy him! Give him BACK!"

"Captain Redfield, if you do not stop with this, you will be suspended!" General Stephens shouted, cutting off his snarl. Chris refused to move from his spot and the soldiers behind him closed in, threatening to restrain him, but seeing those threatening tensed biceps that flexed with rage as he cupped the general's collar, they thought better. Quickly it was weapons at the ready, dangling a man who weighed 280 pounds by his throat before three needles pierced his back, confusing knitting his brows, dropping the general on his feet, yanking out one of the needles, staring at it. The Generals in charge knew that Chris would react this way and were prepared accordingly. They knew Chris would never willingly release Piers. "He's signed a release waver. Men, take Captain Redfield to his home and surround it. I don't want him going anywhere, its time you took a vacation captain," commanded General Stephens, "Time you let us do what we do best, and you took a rest from that stressful job of yours." Chris roared as his vision blurred, both fists slamming and crushing the table of wood beneath his large fists, beating it down until he was trembling to say upright. "Thanks... for your cooperation."

* * *

'_Stop, stop, please stop..._'

Piers closed his eyes tighter, the man hovering over him rubbing his wrinkly fingers with his bushy mustache, winding it into a ribbon before he was done, fluffing back out once it was released. He was observing the restraints and the progress Piers had made in prying himself free of the examination table. Unlike more than half of the viruses that Umbrella had created, apart from his arm that healed itself, it did more damage to his person than help. They'd been watching him trying to escape his bonds for hours since the last time they'd tightened them. The C-Virus didn't make him physically stronger. Only when he allowed himself to drop all his pride and let that arm become what it really was. Which to their surprise took much more antagonizing than they had ever imagined. He was still holding it back, gritting his teeth and turning his face away so he wouldn't have to see that pinched face watching him like a lab rat, while the restraint across his thighs were tightened to the point of pressure building in his head, a migraine three days old roaring in his head. _Please, please stop. _This wouldn't show them anything new after the fourth time of doing it... why did they have to continue on this way? Why couldn't he have listened to Chris... why couldn't he have turn back time. These people kept changing in and out, one doctor that hadn't seen it that wanted to be involved in the process so they wanted to exhibit him to each new pair of eyes. The scalpel changed hands, from muttonchops mayhem, to his new observer, sharing the exploratory nature over a few notes. "Start on the left... it will give you a better basis for the control perimeters. You will observe, that the subjects left arm is not at all affected by the healing factor that appears to be active over it's right." Subject? It? Piers stomach turned, hearing some mumbling about the regenerative properties of his mutation. "Now I will of course leave you to make your own examination of the subject, Dr. Wheeler. I do not wish to inhibit your own powers over science, so please, do not let me hold you back form your research." Foot falls of scratchy little cloth booties over the doctor's sneakers brought him out of the room, leaving Piers alone with his newest torturer...

His left arm felt the sliver of medical instruments, another in a long list of horizontal cuts that were all starting to seep blood and plasma, forcing quiet his groan of pain. He wouldn't give them that. "I will need you to... explain to me, the extents of the pain. It will help with the research." The scientist made another cut, two inches, with hardly any depth. He had a ladder of them growing up his left bicep. "Come now, on a scale of one to ten, how was that? They informed you... you would be... cooperative."

"Go to Hell..."

He didn't allow himself fear, feeling womanly hands leave his triceps that they coddled to, shifting with a humph to the other side of his body. "You are already going there young man. Monsters and mutants receive the lowest circle just for themselves... So how about you do some good for the humanity your filthy existence mars and just shut up." The blade insertion didn't hurt until the second incision, making his skin to ribbons from shoulder to elbow. His arm was shaking under the pressure behind his eyes and the urge to rip free and destroy the whole place. He could hear the virus whispering and urging to speak to him, licking the fringes of his sanity with their fury and harbinger references to the doom he was cause on this place. _Go ahead, you could break free, take this whole place down with you. Go back to Chris. Your poor captain, you left him for this. You lied. You'll break, and when you do... when you do there will be blood to pay._ Good Lord it was all he wanted. Be back with Chris, be back in his taut muscled arms, straining around him and catching him in an impossible embrace. He would do anything to feel those rough demanding kisses that stole all his attention. But he couldn't do that. Couldn't go back, not like this. Not a complete mock of the man he'd once been. He'd endure this a thousand times over if it meant Chris' freedom from having to 'babysit him' or a shot at a cure. The knife slicing into his skin sent a shudder through his body, his hands shaking in fists as it drew in a line downward until it met the junction where his forearm met bicep, dark blood seeping from every cut, while forceps pried back the layers of ruined flesh. "You have another layer of skin under this hmmm? Darker?" _Oh fuck, please just stop..._ "Look at those healing antibodies work... already trying to reform all that camouflage skin. Beautiful... in just a few seconds. Oh and look at all that lovely electricity. You can concentrate it can you? Gorgeous. The mutation that Captain Redfield disclosed when he was debriefed, he claimed your arm was something out of a nightmare. Hiding something are we? Because this masterpiece is a work of art. Look at how fast the cells regenerate... and all the way to ribs... fascinating. How about a better look at that arm... shall we?"

Eyes fluttered as Piers' arm involuntarily twitched, jolts of electricity absorbing into it and around it as each cut caused another arch to sprout off that mauled appendage. He was grimacing between battered lips, gnawing on them subconsciously. "He's got healing properties in the arm, that it keeps re-healing the flesh that seems to... protect it in a manner." She was talking into a Dictaphone, making sure all her notes were properly taken. "Each incision is precisely two inches and length and heals completely after only twenty seconds when left to its own devices. Perhaps a deeper wound will... yield the same results." The scientist known as Wheeler buried her scalpel deeper into the throbbing muscle of dark tissue, so foreign in comparison to that olive hue that comprised the rest of his body. "And too much damage to it and that thing lets off a violent charge... enough voltage to kill a healthy man." There was some griping before the woman came up beside him, eyes finally flickering open when she stood over his head, canting her head as he regarded her with accusing hazel and moonstone silver. "Make sure to test the frequency and strength of each charge let off the subject's body. I want to know what kind of watts we are talking about. Gauge them properly." Her lips moved in a line as though she was shot up with Botox, but snickered when she noted his eyes centering on her with a glower. "Settle down Agent Nivans... Remember you came in willingly. And if you cause too much trouble we'll charge you with that scientist's death, so be a good boy." His scoff didn't go unrecognized before she stopped, lowering a hand over Piers' face, tracing the scars that underlined his eye. "I was given leave to test all areas of your body..." The woman smirked as Piers lurched against his restraints, one holding down his head and chest, both arms strapped several times down, as he watched the silver near his face. "What's wrong soldier... it should heal again shouldn't it?"

* * *

******Piers Nivans and OC scientist nut jobs; Wheeler and Whisker face, are all me! As well as paragraphing, scene edits, and formatting!**

**Chris Redfield and the OC generals and directors are courtesy of mmori! As well as all spelling and grammatical editing, thank you ma'am!**

**Hope you will review and let us know what you think about Chapter 1 of The Twisted Truth.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome to chapter 2! And as ever please keep in mind this was an RPG! Mmori(Tumblr) or Morriganna(FF), is the one I did this with and she gets all props for creative liberty on this one. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Nightmare? Something out of a nightmare? Chris thought he was... a nightmare. His chest ached just hearing the words, his whole body sheen with sweat as another ribbon of flaccid skin was drawn away, flopped into a dish already half full with blood and stained scores of flesh, drips of blood clinging and drooling off the side of his arm while the torturer, self named scientist, continued to pry away pieces, with the help of her henchmen. "Please stop... I can...," he groaned, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to force back another wave of electricity, swallowing it into his own body, destroying nerve endings and scorching muscle. Piers was taking every one of those jolts of fire into himself as best as he could because despite all they'd done, he was still trying everything in being not to kill these people with the force behind his own mutation. "I could show you, just let me up." The dark mutated flesh beneath threatened to surge fire through his whole body again, electricity waving over him, arching off the table as the doctor prodded the throbbing muscle of discolored flesh he'd revealed. "Stop... just let me," His voice was straining raw, dropping his head back as the scalpel drove into the skin beneath, peeling away more of it until there was nothing but blinding hot light, screaming out as a jolt surged through him and into the entire room, breaking every light and piece of glass until he was unconscious, the doctor flopping to the ground. His arm throbbed with the pulse running through it, the darkening color threatening his entire appendage as the team of 'scientists' entered tentatively, Wheeler chiefly among them.

"Get the rest of the skin off that arm... I want to see it, all of it. And get that corpse out of here and get more rods. Conductors so he stops burning through doctors."

* * *

Chris was lying on the floor of his home able to feel nothing but pain. The sedative that was given to him to knock him out had the potency to knock out ten elephants, or he was Nixon. Cotton mouth reared its hideous head, smacking his lips together trying to moisten his lips and make his salivary glands to function proper again. Humidity and the over powering urge to brush one's teeth were the usual signs of good hang over. Too bad this one hadn't been caused by a night at the local watering hole accompanied by his favorite bottle of Jack and his best friend Jameson; and was instead the side effect of five too many tranq darts to the back. Stupid assholes all jumped the gun. It wasn't like Chris would have _actually_ killed one of them. Threatened, scared, maybe maul, but not kill. At least, not at that moment. Why had he gone off on those assholes again anyway... Tricell wasn't it? No, he remembered walking out after that. Stupid side effects. He didn't bother with his senses at the moment, sight, sound, smell, those would come back after he could think, at the moment it was more important to remember why he was face down in a puddle of his own drool on the floor. Stupid bastards... couldn't have even put him in his bed. Of course they couldn't, Chris weighed a couple dozen stones, why would they want to haul him around unconscious in his house in a hunt for a bedroom he kept locked because it was where his gun cabinet was. Whatever. Why had they shot him? All he'd done was shove his finger in some tight wad's face when he said... what exactly? "Urgghhh.." Saliva tasted muted in his mouth, smacking his lips again and scrunching his pursed lips in a circle. Oh hell, he needed a shave. He could feel his lips on the scratchy stubble that had almost exceeded its appropriate length, smacking a rough palm up to rub his jaw, grinding his knuckles into his eye sockets. If he didn't get up and shave he was going to hear it from Piers for being a bum. Speaking of his irate little house guest, where the hell was he? Better not be filming this and posting it on Facechat, or Youshit... whatever those things were. Social media had never been his forte... Piers either so that was little over the top of consider of his partner, but still he could at least help pry him off the...

SHIT! "PIERS!"

Chris woke up from his place on the floor and got up. The last thing he remembered was giving his report and being told... Piers was at B.S.A.A. Quarantine Facility north of Quantico... 'Not Piers, not after everything they'd been through!' Chris thought. He knew he had to get Piers back, that was never in question at all, he _would_ get Piers back. Chris lurched off the floor, shuddering under his weight and smearing his hand in the puddle of fluid on the ground, stumbling into the side table that was used for holding his keys and crap. Toppling it under his impressive size, and kicking it over the rest of the way, swearing. He didn't have time for freaking side effects. What on earth was wrong with him?! He'd been shot with these a thousand and one times, and never experienced the loss of balance or coordination that was well connected with the tranquilizers that B.S.A.A. agents carried in their dart guns. Chris didn't carry a dart gun. Reminded him too much of Wong. Finished the world's circus behind his eyelids, the captain finally started his way across the house, snorting when he stopped at the wrong doorway, ignoring his weight set and setting off for the next. Chris could navigate his house blindfolded, damn residual side effects. He didn't have time for these, he needed his skills back now. Especially if he was about to go to war to get back his partner from the U.S. Government.

Backtracking, he grabbed the hunter green duffel from his weight room, dumping out the remaining: water bottles, sweat band, spare sweats. Maneuvering around the barbell, he just barely missed stubbing his toe, snorting a it before heading back down the hall, stopping when he passed his room, noting the flashlight from the muzzle of a 9-0-9. S.O.U. standards... Seemed he had his own personal guard. How caring... Chris rolled his eyes, finding his doorway, shoving passed everything else within pushing the laundry basket from in front of his walk in closet. Gun cabinet. Tossing down the bag and pushing back the flaps, he gathered what mattered. Packed the guns (9-0-9, assault rifles, sniper rifle that he kept for his partner, two other handguns, a colt .45 and other assorted goodies), ammo (never enough ammo), his combat knife (the machete from Kijuju), and other supplies he might need in a pinch. Everything he did, he did in the dark with no lights on and that was a detail Chris did not fail notice at all. Turn on the lights and you alret the men inside that you're up and moving around. If they were good they already knew, if they weren't there was no reason to help them. He should have had more trouble with this, finding the right boxes of ammo, the magazines, but it was surprisingly easier than he had imagined it would be. As he walked out of his room, he heard noises from outside. Chris heard footsteps and voices outside, so he went to the window to look, pulling one slot of the blinds up to peer out at them. He noticed four guards each were armed and in full gear. Not messing around about staying put were they?

Chris swore to himself and then he finally noticed something… How could he hear them from outside, when they were that far away?

Taking the time to notice the little things, the captain finally took the time to realize the speed he'd been using to achieve all this despite his misconstrued balance. His home was very dark, pitch black and it was a new moon tonight, meaning no extra light from the outside to aid him, and still he wasn't suffering to find objects throughout the house that he required for this fool's errand. He was moving around with no problems. The pain in his throat that had been bothering him in Brazil wasn't persistently pestering him anymore. He was hearing things that on the average he'd only hear with the gift of a little liquid courage, and there were smells he was sorting out that belonged to world outside that he should never have been able to smell through the outside. Worry gripped his chest and messed with his reservations about leaving, racing to the master restroom and flicking the switch on the wall, lights flashing on. Once it was it was done, Chris saw his reflection…

Dark vermilion, feline eyes were staring back at him, irises slit and narrowing with the addition of the bright lights flashing on around him, wincing and contracting in the mirror. Yanking away the fabric of his S.O.U. regulars that he was still wearing from South America, he jerked the collar down to expose his meaty neck. He was able to view a slit on his neck where Piers bit him, bigger than a tooth puncture. It wasn't even in the shape of the mouth mark he'd left him the day he left, healed completely but for the strange slit. His eyes were hard enough to look at... Albert Wesker's eyes. No wonder Jessica had said his name in the last seconds of her life, she could see his old S.T.A.R.'s captain in his eyes. He placed a hand over the wound, sighing with resignation at the state of his eyes, and felt something 'lick' his palm. The moistness freaked Chris out, jerking away his hand and staring at it incredulously, fluids coating his palm that resembled saliva and the slit in his neck was shifting in a repulsive way, but he knew he had to calm down. He had no time to consider himself now. No matter what has happened to him, he had to get to Piers. He had time to consider the things that had happened to him after he'd saved his partner from those butchers at Quarantine. He had a run in with them four years ago when they threatened Jill Valentine for her cooperation, after having been injected and mind controlled by Wesker. He knew some of those doctors at B.S.A.A.'s Quarantine Facility were complete batshit nuts and had no morals when it came to testing subjects. Some of them were just as bad as Umbrella's scientists were (and he wondered if some of them weren't from Umbrella's old facility raids).

Chris knew what he had to do in this instance, and once other people found out, he would be labeled as a traitor against the government at worst, and be served up on a platter for the brass, discharged and branded dishonorably discharged, but either instance he was willing to go through that to save his partner. Piers was a hero, he deserved better than this. He was Chris' everything now, the one person he'd managed to save in a lifetime of failures, he couldn't leave him now that they had been so close to victory. Baring down, he grappled the bag, turning away from his own scruffy countenance, and those orangey-red orbs staring back at him, leaving that behind along with his badge. Time to get to work. Peering out the window in the large empty kitchen, Chris spotted four new guards replace the ones he'd noted when he woke up. He'd knew he would have to go through the guards (or even kill them) before he could leave the base. Checking the other side of the house he spotted the other two guards, practically asleep on their feet, guarding the cellar door. From the base exit, Quarantine Facility B was only one hour away with a fast enough car. It was currently night time, 0300, and he had to get to the facility before morning came if he wanted the element of surprise before the generals raised security after his outburst at H.Q.. And on top of that... If he waited too long, who knew what horrors Piers could be go through?

The guards outside paced, rhythmically from one corner of his house to the next, covering them well enough that at any one point there should have been two sets of eyes for confirmation of any one instance. "Can you believe they put Captain Redfield on house arrest? Man's a hero. You know why they had him locked in here?"

The radio bleeped with static, buzzing into the other guard's ear. "Yeah, something about going off on the higher ups. Disagreeing with some order I guess... But hell it had have been bad if he was locked in there with orders not to free him. I mean, the captain is one of those guys you don't mess around with, he's been around a couple times, he doesn't disagree for no good reason. Don't know why he threatened insubordination over some stupid order though, he's never thrown such a stink before. All I know is we gotta watch the place, keep him on lock down until the general commands us otherwise." More buzz and static, one of them peering hastily inside the window when he saw the lights come on, before rushing back into position. "Guess he's up... Just saw the lights in the house come on, copy that?"

"Yeah, I saw it, location is near the bathroom. Probably throwing up his dinner after he got tranqed."

Chris was ready to make his move, no more waiting around to let himself get more concerned about this situation that it merited. They'd deal with him later, Piers first. He observed the guards at the front of the house for a while longer to figure out their patrolling pattern and once he understood it, he took hold of the duffel and slung it over his shoulder. Quick and careful, he'd be out of here without anyone the wiser. His truck was the question. He didn't have time to be running around all over the place, so he'd need to get out of here silently, but he would need to pick up a car to drive himself to Quarantine. Who knew what state Piers would be in, they couldn't be left with no get away vehicle. Opening the door would draw attention, so he used the east facing window, dropping his decoy bag from the window to draw attention and crossing to the front of the house, waiting for them to change position before exiting the front door, leaving it open behind him. He left his home silently. The guards would go in different directions, turn around, and then go back to their starting point, once they'd discovered the source of the noise. Chris wound his way along the perimeter and left his home, stopping face to face with a guard who had... for his part sadly stayed in position. Poor guy. He dropped him with one quick lunge, take out the legs and snap his neck, thudding the body to the ground. The noise would attract attention, and now secrecy was out the window. He went behind the first guard. He felt a small bit of remorse for the poor soul simply doing his job, but it was squashed when he thought of the pain Piers was undoubtedly going through right at this moment. Chris grabbed the soldier's mouth to muffle the sound, feeling wetness of saliva on his palm; broke his vertebra with ease and got to business. With those two taken down it left one blind spot for him, and in the effort of attempted stealth he dragged the corpse out of the way to hide it in the shadows. Chris noticed that it took no effort to snap a neck now but he had the brute strength of an ape. Still, remorse should have stayed his hand, or made it more horrific to kill his own men, but he attributed it to the glimmer red of his eyes and Wesker's haunting reminder that they were the same man; his strength increased greatly. He repeated this process with the three other guards.

Chris was forty years old, forty-one, yet he felt better than he ever had in peak physical condition. He knew it was unnatural, but he did not care. His only goal right now was to get to Piers and rescue him from HQ's Quarantine Facility, everything else came second. Chris had to leave the base unnoticed or else things would go to hell quickly. Once someone came to relieve those men, the bodies would be found and his cover blown. He knew he couldn't take one of the vehicles located on the base, even those that of his rank and higher given access to use. The general's head no doubt pegged his idea, so collecting one would be out of the question, and getting through the gate house would prove did however, have a truck in storage that was located in the next town. From his location, it would be five miles to get that, and he had maybe 3 hours until the sun started rearing it's head, optimistically. Luckily for Chris, his residence on base was located near the edge and tree line, he didn't like people and he had to keep Piers under his protection, so getting there wouldn't be entirely difficult, he'd have to think of a good way to get through security while on the run. There was probably something in his duffel for just the occasion, like the shock stick. Yeah, that would do the trick, turn the guy into a fried egg as an added plus. He kept to the shadows of the buildings as he went towards the exit, not an easy task altogether with the military compound being so well lit, but after fifty minutes of aversion there was one last obstacle: The guard on duty at the exit gate.

Normally, this would be an issue since the lights are bright in that area, motion activated so in case anyone was doing exactly what he was. Hefting his bag off his shoulder and preparing to rummage for his shock stick, Chris noticed the guard was distracted. Flashing lights from inside his station, flickering like his T.V. in the middle of the night when he could sleep. Damn insomnia. It was the sounds that caught his second nature to look again, coming from the guard house's location and it wasn't the sounds of general chatter or some lulled off soap that kept the attention while waiting through the long hours of the night; this was sexual. Nearing it carefully, he noted the T.V. on, some shitty 'B' rated porn, with bad sound, but the husky breaths and strangled moans were what he noted. The guard was fucking a hooker while on duty, watching PORN! If this was any other time, Chris would have grabbed that useless bastard by his waggling tongue and torn it out of his head and presented it to the board. He felt filthy just walking away, but it was a distraction, it got him a jump leap over the guard fence and outside the perimeter without notice while noisy, sounds of sloppy flesh and moist bits smacked together. 'Hope that guy gets prostate cancer.' Instead, he simply left the base unnoticed. Chris knew he had a good run ahead of him, no time for slackers in the S.O.U.. So he picked a pace he could follow and got to work.

The run to the storage facility to get his truck, was a bitch. Open terrain, meaning nothing to hide yourself with with nothing but a duffel bag at your back. Sweat was his first partner in the line of duty, Chris wasn't opposed to hard work, so running was just another one of those that came natural, so long as you had a steady gait and you were a well worked war vet. Chris kept thinking of himself as old in instances like that, but even now he knew he wasn't moving like the seventy year old man he felt like mentally. He was moving like a twenty-five year old, snuffing in cold and huffing out the heat, clothes staining with sweat and clinging his clothes to his muscled frame, thundering with each stride. Even though he was busy running; and the one out in the cold; running had another unintended side effect. It caused the mutated C-Virus in his body to not only burn the remaining sedative out of his system, but it sped up the process of his mutation. He could feel it, even if he couldn't see it. This must have been how Piers felt when he was infected initially, like a thousand bugs were crawling under his skin. hopefully he wasn't going to pop out of his skin and becoming a maggot monster with no control over himself except for some fat larva like, flying creature; like Marco... When Piers bit Chris on the neck before his mission, his teeth must have injected the mutated C-Virus into his system. Since it was a small amount, it took a lot longer for the effects to take place inside Chris. Thus why it seemed the men in the conference room during his debriefing hadn't said anything about his eyes. The interesting thing about the mutated C-Virus is that it was completely unexpected, it could adapt the bodies of its hosts to what they are supposed to be, or in Piers' case, he lost his arm, so it grew him one that would protect it's host no matter the situation. Well Chris wasn't injured.. except his neck, and that was seemingly healthy now, if you excluded the addition of a second tongue... So what other additions to his person was he going to suffer through?

Gathering up his pick-up and throwing in his bag, Chris ripped the tires up, burning rubber to lay waste to the base and finally getting a move on. Two more hours and he was going to have light to give him trouble. Driving gave him the time to note his own physical difference, and mental ones. He wasn't tired after that run and it was fair and at a high pace so it wasn't something to be underestimated. He wasn't tired anymore, his eyesight was great with the headlights out, and his hearing was amplified. He was stronger too, he could see it in his taut and tensing biceps and triceps. The alcohol had gained him a fair amount of thirst, depression, and put weight on his muscled body. Just looking at his wrists, he was burning fat way faster. His wrists were thinner and he was sweating off the metabolism side effects. He'd appreciate that if it was the only thing. The mental deficit, the only thing he could really identify was that he gave a rat's ass now about those people he killed. He knew he should, but he just didn't. There was too much at stake here knowing what was on the line. Piers, he was the other thing. After this entire experience he hadn't been able to think of anything else but Piers' well-being. Not his job that he use to care so much about, and hardly even considered, not the people he'd have to over ride, fight, or potentially kill, nothing. Just getting Piers away from that shit hole. Not to say he wasn't also completely pissed that he'd gone of Chris' head to go to that facility on his own after being directly ordered not to, but safety first. Then he'd kill the younger man. Only after he was once again able to look him in his mismatched eyes and make sure he was in one piece, then smack the smile off his curled lips and remind him who the captain was in this outfit. Once he reached the facility's perimeter, he parked it out of sight, running he rest of the distance to the gatehouse. He ran as fast as he could and it took him ten minutes from the gate, to the interior walls. Beyond no shadow of a doubt, Chris knew he was infected. He was stronger and faster than any normal human had a right to be (not as fast as Albert, but it was an impressive feat none the less); but right now, his focus was getting to Piers.

* * *

Piers felt the scalpel slide underneath his flesh that was stained by hideous scarring, feeling it split along the deep red tissue like a knife cutting tissue paper, swallowing back his protests in his throat and gagging on the pain, struggling to control his breathing. She had threatened to remove the whole eye if he kept throwing himself against the restraints, but he couldn't help the way the electricity kept dancing over his skin the higher his heart rate jumping. It wouldn't stop so long as they were tearing into him this way, a multitude of people having joined Wheeler in her examines. With the additions of the conductors he was least not killing people with the jolts that jumped of his arm, but it was his tissue she was so curious about; watching as the tissue seemed to cauterize itself shut from the arcs of tiny blue spark that kissed his skin, flaying him and charring at the same time. "Very nice... can you control that?" There was a faint shake of the head, and she nodded in acknowledgement. "And it reaches down into your ribs... How many of them were damaged in the transformation?" As the woman pulled away what was left of his shirt and uniform, something in Piers mind snapped, closing his eyes calmly while she dug the tiny knife along a rib all the way flush with the bone and tracing it. Lightheadedness was starting to settle in. They didn't want this, if he passed out, and he'd managed not to this entire time..., but if he managed to pass out, he wouldn't be able to control the electricity or the mutation from tearing his body apart and killing every one of them. A short prayer fell from his lips, words unspoken though they went in a mantra, on in his head. 'Forgive me Chris.' There was no apology that would help him live this down.

"The C-Virus..." his usual strong tenor lacked all its force, lips parting slightly as he fought to control the quiver that ran through his skin from another run of the knife, blood flooding into his eye where she'd sliced open the scar tissue that underline the silver one. He could only feel the wetness though, not see it, he hadn't been able to see with that eye since China. "There was a cure made... with Muller's blood. You can use it? On me? I know what I have isn't the same, but.. you can use it on me right?" Chewing the inside of his mouth he felt his body urging him to let itself free, to merely unravel in front of this woman and let the mutation take hold of him and send every last one of them to Hell. "This isn't permanent, is…FUCK!" He had so many questions but this woman was only interested in how his body was regenerating and making light of how the arcs of searing pain caused him to jerk against his restraints, or the meters reading the volts in the surges that rebounded the room. He couldn't help swearing when he felt her drag the knife along his bones, wetness falling in the trail it had formed from his tears, silently gagging away the urge to just shrivel up and die, noting the wetness on his sides as well, his nerves lancing fire at him with every breath, leaking more sticky crimson fluid all over the examine table.

"Your Captain said your ribs were exposed, front to back correct? These 'scars' then? And your eye does that retain function? Everything else seems to heal itself."

"It works when enough electricity is released, otherwise no. Tell me. There is a cure, right? You can use the antibodies in his blood to make me a cure." They'd had his blood; this was all some stupid experiment while they found a way to cure him right? That's what B.S.A.A. did; they destroyed B.O.W.'s and looked for a cure. To right the wrongs right? It was what he spent his whole life doing. Even though she was literally mutilating him on a slab with men observing every piece of his flesh, he hadn't attacked them, hurt them. He knew what he was, this wasn't some stupid, ill conceived idea that if he turned himself in fairies would come and encircle him and carry him into the land beyond. This was about his job. Special Operations Unit. He killed B.O.W.s, he was a B.O.W., and that meant this was where he belonged.

The woman laughed, leaning forward and putting a finger to his nose, the nail poking at his flesh like she would a child. "We couldn't cure you even if we wanted to my dear. I wouldn't even if we could. Neo-Umbrella has made a perfect monster here and I have leave from Headquarters to study it. It, being you." Fury blanketed through Piers body. No, H.Q. wouldn't hand him over without testing their resources, they would want to help him first, at least try! He knew the chances were slim, but they had to at least try, they would want... They weren't monsters, _he_ wasn't a monster, he was a person, and he had saved Chris, just like he had wanted, saved the world like he'd wanted. This woman wasn't even going to try? They weren't even going to make an attempt to salvage his person. Hell they could cut it off for all he cared, at least make an attempt to fix him! "Now now, stop struggling, or I'll take out that eye of yours, remember? You wouldn't want that would you?" She waved the bloody scalpel and Piers felt the fighting go out of him, his chest constricting and his finger curling, the loss of blood, the loss of hope, the loss of everything flushing his system and leaving it bare for the voices that coaxed and cooed at the fringes of his mind to take hold, grinding his senses to the world and forcing his hand. "Such a hideous monster aren't you...?"

A monster..., a twisted, disgusting monster, that even Chris had to lie to to make feel better. Even he saw a monster, well... if that's really what they wanted… Lips parted as he snarled at her, a breath calming in his chest as every little spark of energy jumped into his almost stripped bare fingers, flesh instantly searing from his arm, flayed in strips. Bones cracked like branches snapping in half, echoing off the walls and caused him to shout in agony, the barbs embedded deep in darkened mutated flesh crackling with energy and licking his entire body until the room seemed to come alive with it. The conductors were serving no purpose, the barbed like shards of bone exposed and sizzling, the flow of electric culminating in his use to be fingers that were breaking into no longer accurate gunner's tools, but into broken tentacled fingers. The doctor's face had long since conformed from amusement into horror, reflecting the disgust and reverence that she hadn't thought to possess until that moment, watching the joints tear apart until his entire arm had exposed the deep veined tissue and hideous mutation that had inflicted him that day in China, restraints tearing to pieces. "Good God..." Anger was the best medicine. Jolts of electricity jumped from the barbs of bone and strained muscle ribbons of it searing marks in the wall. "Settle down Agent... you don't want something bad to happen here, do you?" No he hadn't wanted something bad to happen here, he'd struggled to maintain composure through well deserved torment, but he warned her time and time again he couldn't bear that much without losing his ability to restrain it, without the voices in his head dancing to the forefront and completely taking over. Her mouth quivered watching the electric show his body involuntarily put on, letting it over take his system as the silver in his eye locked on her, a twisted smirk pulling at the corners of his bow-shaped lips.

"I'll _show_ you a monster..."

* * *

Chris slunk close to the HQ Quarantine Facility. He had parked his truck off-road near some high bushes, a good enough cover and close enough nearby that he could get Piers there even if unconscious. It was still dark outside,just barely, but there were soldiers crawling all over the place, like an aunt hill; well the rain drops were about to fall, and these bastards better scurry when he made his move or else they'd be some more collateral. He counted ten of them on patrol outside the northern entrance alone. He needed... a distraction...

It was then the lights outside and inside both began to flicker like dying insects just before going out entirely on the floors above them, haunting everyone outside. The entire building was going out, floor after floor from the tenth to the ground floor darkness enveloping the outside... and then the explosion. Glass rained down on the world in panes, powder, and shards, slicing through the air, the clash of these windows shattering over them resounding in the air, shocking whit blue jolts of lightning brighting the empty gapes of 5th story windows. There were screams muted by the falling shards falling and hurdling to the earth with gravitational force stabbing and slicing the ground, impaling men below with bloody gashes incurring cries from the men around him, tending their wounded and trying to pull the those dying with huge slabs of glass inside their shoulders and abdomens. Chris looked on at the display, eyes transfixed on everything becoming a massacre outside. A blood curdling screech came from inside the building and the soldiers outside were sorted confusion and fear. "Piers," Chris whispered the name to himself, rolling it off his tongue. He knew it was Piers causing this chaos to happen, people didn't know Piers, they hadn't seen what he was capable with enough ambition. The men outside turned their flashlights on starting to tend their wounded and searching for the source of the murder mystery. Suddenly, an armed soldier noticed Chris' shadow from off the wall, his hulking form obvious in the flashing lightning show. "STOP RIGHT THERE! HANDS UP!"

"Well, so much for subtle." Chris gave the man a smirk as he crossed the yard; ran in front of the man and punched in his head so hard it was removed from his pencil neck. It splattered teeth and skull around his own fist, cutting his flesh with shards and the rest of the body dangled by bits, limp and foul around his feet as he flicked his hand free of the menagerie of brain matter. The other soldiers could be merely witnesses to the atrocities committed, trembling in their cheap boots like the girl scouts they were. Scared as hell was an understatement when they laid their sorry eyes on Chris' form, standing in the flashing strobe of lights from above. Unknown to Chris, the adrenaline in his body surging, his eyes were glowing fire and he looked what could only be described as a demon beast from hell, the burning eyes of Cerberus; as he cracked those blood stained knuckles, locking eyes on his next target. "I am going to enjoy this," Chris' voice was a guttural snarl as he dismembered the remaining guards who had dared confront him. Chris couldn't help but let the virus fully take over and he had no regrets in doing so, feeling the efficiency of his body multiply exponentially while making short work of these able bodied men. In only took a few moments longer to clear the guards, so pleased with the fast paced work and so completely unworn by the excursion of his form that, Chris went into the facility while moving past the mass of limbs, blood, and gore that littered the ground.

As Chris went inside the facility, he could hear the screams of terror that echoed from the corridors, leading him like a map toward his destination; from the scientists and other employees, a non-discriminate death awaiting those who didn't run from their unparalleled end. He noticed flashes of electricity tracing along the walls, ceiling, and the ground of those places that seemed to all get stronger the further within they went. Those complete fools.. they confined Piers? A man capable of mass explosive electricity? The lances of lightning didn't bother him at all, he had experience dealing with Piers, and his natural defenses. In fact, it made things easier for the man; he followed the electric bursts to their source since the further he went into the facility, the stronger the electricity was. He knew he would get to his Piers and nothing, not even this virus, or these nightmarish scientists would stop him! As Chris moved along the walls down the electrified hallway, staff lost in psychotic horror as they were presented with a second monstrosity given to them even after escaping one Hell and into the next. They were in pain from the electricity flowing around them surprising the captain to note that the people here were being completely drained and near suffering a government funded execution without the chair to sit in or the device to keep them from biting their tongues off. And yet here stood Chris unaffected by those lines of constraining electric. There were two of these such people who dared approach the B.S.A.A. captain and one of them said, "Please help us! The monster in the lab, he's gone crazy! PLEASE SAVE US!" If the staff member took a better look at Chris' face, they would have seen the crimson glowing red eyes and the amused smirk that seemed to slowly creep over Chris' face.

"I would be more than glad to help you," he cooed coyly as he went towards the cowering staff members, his hand outstretched. As he got closer, both of them could see a better look through the flashing sparks around them and really see Chris' face and screamed as they saw the blood covering his body and his demonic looking eyes. "You called my partner a _monster_. I will show you the real monster…" It wasn't obvious anymore, it wasn't important anymore, the virus has affected Chris in another way as well, he was completely unable to see it: His mentality has totally changed. All he cared about was Piers and nothing else. His morals were almost non-existent and the only thing he truly cared about was his partner. Chris was already protective of Piers to begin with after all that had happened between them, but now, those protective feelings were in overdrive; intensified by a viral overload that moved him without the man and woman in the facility ran from Chris, rather stumbled away from what version of Chris was left, the bulbs in the inner walls of the hall slowly began to break, one after another in close succession, bolts of electricity leaving scars across the walls until finally they became trapped between the two, face a death like an insect, scorched by high wattage electricity or the bloodstained massacre that Captain Redfield offered them with a coiled fist.

Piers knees buckled, cracking a loud ugly noise as he hit the ground, the pain of it surging through his flesh and gnawing at him until finally his body gave out, the searing white of jolts of painful death seething out of his very pores until he collapsed. The mutation of his appendage was throbbing and twitching, the remaining sparks arching him off the ground as he grimaced in lightning white pain, his body finally free of the confines of people's who had tortured his person and capable of repairing itself until the muscles and destroyed limb once again resembled his own olive toned skin bones cracking and shifting, excruciating and exhausting his already ruined form. He was slick with sweat and the mucus left behind by the cocoons reminiscent of the ones back in China slathered over the fresh skin. Gasping on the ground, facility sparking and ruined, dark veins of the mutation still stealing over his body and haunting beneath new flesh and along his face, the silver of his right eye changing briefly back to its normal hazel as a seizure stole over his flesh gritting his teeth in pain. It wasn't until he had all but fallen unconscious that those scientists that were left made to beg from Chris to please to let them live. That they were horribly sorry, that life was too short. Every random excuse in the book in the face of certain demise, hoping to appeal to Chris' no longer obvious greater sense of morality.

But his own men were running from him, those two who he'd followed on their ill-advised return from the room that they had brought down their doom within. Chris saw the scientists run away from him and he gave chase, when he caught up to them, he was prepared to exact his revenge; to rip them limb from limb until he heard a loud thud on the ground in front of him and Chris finally laid eyes on Piers as he collapsed on the ground from releasing so much electricity and the effort of healing his body. The scientists who were begging for their lives saw their chance and ran away as Chris disregarded all; immediately hurtling to Piers' side. Gripping the near mutilated body, almost corpse like Piers and began prodding, hunting his body for the destruction they caused on him. He could see that Piers was barely conscious from what he just did, from what they had done and more over he he had expended trying to save his own body from destruction. He took a look at the room and saw the damage Piers caused along with the dead bodies that were charred beyond recognition. Chris also saw the remains of the bloody tools scattered and the dark blood stains on the ground, covered by newer ones from days of torture, those things that were obviously used on Piers along with what was left of the clothing on Piers and his anger peaked. 'Those butchers did _this_ to my Piers!' Chris thought as he held onto Piers, refusing to relent his clutching grip on the slack body in his arms.

As he held Piers in his arms, the emergency lights finally began to filter on, spaking and broken in some places with a haunting red glow that illuminated their bodies and made the violent red in Chris' eyes stand out. Piers began to wake as the noise of sirens filled the building bouncing off the walls and the building itself outside and around the compound, lock down already begun.. The younger soldier's hazel eyes flickered open briefly, nothing but blur to relish his vision until he'd blinked several times and cleared the dark haze from his sight, correcting hours blood staining, sweat, and tears. Those perceptive oculars missed nothing as they stared up into the face of that stubbled, chiseled jaw line, up to those always captivating mahogany orbs, trapped on his visage. It wasn't until he noticed the fact that those deep dark brown eyes that he'd caught him with all those years ago for the first time were now a deep vermillion, that Piers' face seemed to recognize where they were. Blazing red eyes sent a shock over his form before Piers jerked away, all but scrabbling from Chris' arms despite his own destroyed physique, unable to fully stand. "Chris, God! What happened to you?!" His own eyes narrowed as he examined the man, blood stained and converted in front of his own eyes. His arm was aching with agony, but it didn't matter. It was holding his weight on rough palms against the cool of the tile floor. "Your... who's blood is that?!" He was immediately back to himself, despite the damage and the failed ability to fight the virus' urging to destroy through the use of that one horrific appendage. His hands were immediately back on Chris, doing exactly as the older man had done when seeing the state of his ruined partner; sliding fingers over his bloodstained abdominal and over both hands, before looking back up into his eyes. Chris and Piers had always roughly been the same height, but the young Ace always looked 'up' at his Captain. "I didn't... did I? What did I do to you?" The bodies that lined the rooms were haunting, seeing the scorch marks that littered the rooms and the piles of stinking, cooked flesh. It all made Piers feel his stomach climb ever higher in his throat, but what he saw with Chris made his head spin. He could have killed him, could have completely destroyed the one person in the world he meant to save from all of this. He belonged in this facility if this is who he was... He hardly remembered doing any of it, killing those people, hurting anyone. This was his country even if these people were merely experimenting on him. He could never go against them, never let himself loose on them. But Chris? Chris was the one good thing, the poetic justice to all evil. What had he done?

Chris' taut arms around his lean shoulders was more reassuring than words ever would have been, the feeling of being right, but still there was the bodies and the corpses. Those bodies were singed, burned, destroyed by his own inability to control the virus that coursed through his system, but the blood on Chris? Those weren't from injuries on his own person and he had healed. The blood on Chris was from someplace else. He'd killed people. Of course he had, he was a soldier. Piers had spied out people's features, searched and committed them to memory, and then shot their heads right off their shoulders whenever he had been asked as part of the B.S.A.A. But those were cleared, they were sanctioned hits. Chris had killed people, people on his own soil that they were suppose to protect. "Captain... what did you do?" Those eyes, the vermilion hue was haunting. That wasn't his Captain, not the man he'd grown knowing, those were from pictures of the past. Those were eyes that had demonized the human race since he was ten years old. Albert Wesker had had eyes like that. He remembered every detail from those stories that his Superiors had told. He was infected. By Piers? The bite? It hadn't been that long ago, but how had it plagued Chris so much? Piers had mutated in such ways that he could barely look himself in the mirror, it gnawed at his sanity. Was that what had happened to Chris? The man clutching him was holding fast, tight enough that his chest ached, but he couldn't help but let his fingers coil at Chris' sides, eventually peeling away from him as the red emergency lights lit the halls. Neon glow lighting their features, as Piers gazed at his savior's features, leaning forward and catching his lips with those pouted softer ones, relief waving over him. Whispering between urgent kisses, so overwhelmed to be back in those muscled arms. "Captain... we have to go. You can't be here. The S.O.U., Captain, the B.S.A.A. they can't know you were here. They'd," his lips caught Chris' again, slipping a calloused hand around that thick neck holding them close together. "I can't let that happen to you Chris." He couldn't accept his Captain becoming like him, not have the world change their view on the hero he was and look at the monster Wesker was.

"You did what you had to do Piers that was all," Chris replied seeing the horror stricken on his face at the desecration around them. Chris was sad when Piers jerked away from him, but he realized that Piers was confused when he woke up, he was always lost after those seizures blacked him out, or he spent too much of the electricity that resonated inside him. He went to where Piers was located and wrapped both arms about him. "You'll be okay, Piers. You are back with me and nothing will separate you from me... not even your stupid choices..." More than ever, Chris felt protective of Piers. He always felt that he had to take care of Piers and once they became lovers, those feelings increased. Piers was that piece of his life that signified some kind of victory. The one man who never died, who never left him, who never judged him as man unfit. He always saw the good in Chris and he needed that, even if right now the younger soldier evidently needed someone to see the good in him. Now due to the mutated C-Virus in him, his feelings towards Piers had magnified so much that almost nothing else seemed to matter to him anymore. He no longer cared about the B.S.A.A., his country, or almost anything else. He still loved his sister Claire and loved Jill as a friend, but those feelings for them were almost nothing compared to his love, his passion, his obsession for his Piers. Due to the virus, Chris was bonded to Piers in every way possible. Piers was literally EVERYTHING to Chris now and nothing else mattered.

Chris could get lost in those kisses, but he knew full well now was not the time, they'd been short and quick, reminders that there was a lot more here than just soldiers. Even if he had wanted to deepen it they had no time, he had just wanted to prove he wasn't blaming his subordinate for any of this. Not yet anyway, dumb boy was the reason they were here. "We are getting out of here right now. I won't allow anything bad to happen to you Piers…never again alright... just stay with me okay?" Chris was intense as he spoke, seeing the recognition in those mismatched eyes that read captain as his protege. The younger man was always a soldier first, and taking orders was how he lived his life, so it was how to get him off the ground now. He knew Piers was worried about him being mutated, he could feel it from him, but he did not care about that right now; alarms, surgeons, scientists, doctors, and solders all stood in their way, now wasn't the time for discussing private revelations. Now was the time to escape.

* * *

**And as ever! **

**Piers Nivans and his actions and accountability (such as being a complete DERP for turning himself in and his insane moral center), were created by Capcom, but are relegated by my insanity in this fanfiction! That includes the doctors who experimented on him. **

**I'm also in command of scene editing, flow, and posting!**

**Mmori(tumblr) or Morriganna(ff) is charge of Chris and his now obvious bit of mental/physical changes! She is also in control of the mutated C-virus and its lovely little side effects!**

**She was kind enough to do the spell checking and editing on this piece as well! DOMO MMORI! **


	3. Chapter 3

The mutated C-Virus:

in Chris Redfield it had permanently changed the man in every way possible, mutating the host from an advanced strain; so for this man there was no going back to the man he had once been. What defines a human was no long in him. The initial report of Jake Muller's blood capable of creating a cure for C-Virus, had always been a folly hope. It was a vaccination. One that kept people who had never been exposed from contracting its symptoms. After the discovery of this flaw, Neo Umbrella had captured Jake Muller, and set to the task of creating the mutated C-Virus, one that would be immune to such saving graces as the vaccination that might at one point have saved Chris from himself. There had always been hopes, in the B.S.A.A., that a cure for the C-virus was possible at one point, and it was also one that continued to be pursued even by the people who had set to mutilating Agent Piers Nivans, however even with said vaccination or cure, it was never conclusive that the enhanced version of the virus, would ever be salvageable. In short there was nothing that could be don, to save either man from the effects of what Neo-Umbrella had done to them. Due to the virus' nature, it is always mutating, there would never be a cure for either of them.

For the first time in any moment that was recorded, Christopher Redfield was capable of relating to his long dead nemesis, Albert Wesker. He had entered into a world of singular beings where none other could view the world as he did. He was finally able to understand why Wesker had seen the world the way he had and why he felt the way he did about the human race. Of course there was no understanding what had at once created this urge to purge the world of its weakness, but he could see them. Because he himself was superior, and without knowing it he had been converted into the very thing he had fought against. There was no impulse driven by psychosis and neglect to take over the world or mutating it on the whole, there were no defining moments in Chris' life that perfectly matched his old captain's, but it didn't stop him, from seeing the frailties of people, their simplemindedness that led them to do the things they had to his partner. And that was the key. All Chris cared about was Piers…his Piers. Life of others had always come very close to the vest on the captain. He had learned life was cheap when he saw all his men in Edonia die, when all those in China died, and when he had narrowly lost Jill Valentine he was prepared to leave everything behind to make certain she was okay. Chris' protective nature had always dictated his partners come first and now? The whole world could burn as long as he had his Piers safe. As long as Piers was with him, nothing else mattered to Chris. Of all things the mutated and enhanced C-Virus had done, it had enhanced that singular protective nature and turned it.

* * *

Chris gave Piers a second kiss, crashing their lips together with a kind of frantic intensity before ripping himself off the floor. He grabbed Piers by his mutated arm, still it's fated struggle to reform in the semblance of it's prior state and tried lifting him to his feet, stumbling from the remaining shock of electricity jolting through him, Chris watching as muscles convulsed and surged, dark thick tissue pulsing under his grip, spines retracting inside itself as former bones to humorous and radius. "My truck is hidden outside Piers, we've got to go," baritone urged to Piers. Getting him to move after the Haos defeat had been difficult enough, the expenditure of electricity was enough to buckle him with pain, and enough so that he could hardly stumble through that underwater labyrinth in China. That had been with the hope of saving Chris, and despite not wanting to do it, he knew full well Piers couldn't continue to stumble along that way without the incentive. "Come on partner, you have to move... this place is going to be crawling soon and we're going to be the prime suspects." Trembling eyelids finally held open, looking at his captain through mismatched eyes, reading like a cocktail of drugs, fear, horror, hatred, and distress, trying desperately to convey something through them until Chris was pulling, freshly reviving skin over that arm sensitive to the pull. "Come on, Piers you've got to walk." Grasping at straws, Piers threw himself off the floor, stumbling backward into the wall to catch himself, feeling his body retaliate against him at the insistence to move. With Chris leading them through the broken down facility within the darkness and red lit labyrinth. Walking was hard enough, thank God for adrenaline or else his legs would never have functioned at all. A reassured nod and finally had the leverage, both men one guiding the other out of the destroyed room and through the left trail of destruction. Chris needed the tunnel vision, constant incentive and stimulation to get Piers through the building without the mess and chaos flooding his partner's senses and turning him into a rambling mantra of shock, until they had finally made their way to Chris' truck. There was guard details, back up, sirens, and spot lights, but Chris had himself, Kijuju and Brazil had taught him that was all he needed.

The force behind Chris was always act first, questions later, at least that much hadn't changed about him, but there would be a serious conversation pertaining to the Captain's ill-advised actions later. Piers, in pain as he might have been, wasn't a fool, he knew an adrenaline high when he saw one and knew closer the pangs of sudden dissociative episodes since he himself had been through them on more than one count since his return to the states as a soldier bred to kill exactly what he had become. Just the way Chris was moving, his urgency to get away from that place. The man obviously wasn't stable, but who was Piers to talk considering the fact that he'd allowed voices in his own head to basically massacre an entire floor of people, destroy a building's structural integrity, and be led by a newly formed hand away from the crime, willingly. This was so wrong, this couldn't happen. He would have stopped, turned himself in, never let it go this far except there was the one thing. Chris. Piers was a monster who lived in a world of voices in his head and electric outbursts capable of mass destruction. He was a monster. _He_ was, but Chris wasn't. He couldn't let him become like the things he fought, not because he was trying to save Piers from his own choices. He was moving of his own volition, but only to get him to go, Chris had to go. This couldn't happen a second time. The first time in China Chris had had to save him, he forced him into that pod and let himself become a victim of this virus, but this time he had to save him, had to make him leave... alone.

Reaching the vehicle was a relief in its own, throwing back the door and falling inside. Chris was already following suit, when he looked and recognized that same expression on Piers' face. Those guilty eyes meeting his own and a large hand snapped out, capturing the new one as his own giving a tug. "Get in Piers. You aren't responsible for this, get in. I swear to you if you even consider going back, I will not hesitate to pick you up and put you in this truck myself. I will knock you unconscious if I have to but you are getting in goddammit. Now... soldier." Piers felt the squeeze on his fingers, the one that claimed complete honesty, and urgency to get in. He would never leave him behind. Piers was his retribution for China. He would have someone survive even if it killed him, and so help Chris if he had to tie him to the seat and make him, he would save him no matter the cost. True grit conveyed through those taxed brown eyes, giving one more tug as they took just those few seconds to judge one another and their intentions before duty overrode fear and Piers nodded, the simple 'yes sir' earning their few seconds reprieve from running to turn into frantic hands jamming over the ignition and ripping open the engine. Clamoring into the seat the rest of the way the soldier leaned forward; fingers slipping under the front seat. Chris was a pack rat when it came to weapons, more like a squirrel who never trusted the same place with more than one weapon so you could find at least three in the cab of a truck. He came away with a Lightning Hawk that was stowed along with only the few rounds. Enough to defend his person as he gasped in a few heavy breaths, sweaty brow falling forward and bracing silently on the dash as his Captain finished throwing the car in gear.

It was plainly evident however, Piers was following orders like a good soldier, not because he thought it was best. He didn't think Chris was stable, but for the first time in years, he was mentally sound. At least within the confines of his own mind and where the man could no longer see nor wish to see the difference in himself. The mutated C-Virus did more than change Chris physically in ways he had not yet discovered but he was changing mentally too. The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that had once plagued him on a near daily basis was a thing of the past, damaged cells and nerves repairing much like the damaged limbs or j'avo or his partner. Whenever the captain was on the field, he would suffer through flashbacks of missions past and headaches associated with P.T.S.D. He worked through it of course, but it was pure Hell for him ever since the day Jill 'died' and despite her return it had never corrected itself. Now thanks to this enhanced C-Virus, the Post-Trauma... was gone. At least what it seemed to have done was remove that kind of psychosis with what Piers had decided was a different form all together. In fact, while Chris went to rescue Piers from said facility, he had had no remorse for what he did, and it was becoming obvious his conscience suffered not a wink. He didn't give a shit about who he killed and how it was done. As long as he got to Piers, he did not give a damn about the other details, there was no fear or questioning, it was definitive. There was a chance the changes might scare Piers, there were always chances of that, his partner was fairly easy to fright on matters such as conscience or ethics, but Chris would make sure he understood, once he was safe from this hiatus they would talk about it and he'd make sure his partner understood that in the world of mutations, B.O.W.s, soldiers, and split sides that he was well aware of the intentions behind his motive. He lived for Piers now and anything else just did not matter.

Chris got into the truck and left the area. He knew the B.S.A.A. back up would be here soon, they had protocols for this sort of thing. Well not this sort of thing on the whole, no one had ever taken into account that his partner would blow up an entire floor, but the general theory of escaped subjects was always in the makings when they took on the quarantine facility. Which means they had approx. 18 minutes after the alarms sounded to get the hell out of there before the sweep crew came through; and they had to get out of the area. They could not go anywhere Headquarters would know about, so it was time to reach back to his roots. There was no way they could go back to his place after the dead people on the grounds were discovered, and there was no saying what kinds of things they had at his other remaining place. Endangering Claire was out of the questions and more over she was still in Europe with TerraSave. He had a few places off the map that were safe, but they were too far, and the state they were in they needed something fast. She wouldn't appreciate it, but back in the days of S.T.A.R.S. Jill had purchased a place in someone else's name for them so that they would have a safe house if anyone ever came after them. There was a chance she would say something about it, more than a chance in fact. But they needed sleep. And With his partner going half crazed in his own head because of the virus assaulting his senses after that little outburst there was no way he could drive them all the way to Montana from here without sleep and some gear. They would go to Jill's old home. She kept it as a safe house for emergencies and it was packed to the hilt with weapons, the kinds he would needed in order to protect them or stock pile into his truck to get some kind of escape underway. He was already planning out some kind of disappearance, there was no giving him back his life, but again, what mattered here was he got his partner safe. Chris was given a key to the place years ago and he always had it with him, tucked in the backside of his badge, the leather seam half stitched together on the side so that he would never leave it behind. So, Chris and Piers made their way toward sanctuary, four hours away.

The trip to Jill's old home was long, too long. There would already be a lock down behind them and with the adrenaline rushing through their veins it shouldn't have felt so extendedly long. But they needed the time, despite not wanting it, they needed it. Piers needed to say a lot more than the obvious and after almost an hour in silence with one another it was time someone opened their mouths. "I'm sorry, Captain." Soft tenor was little more than a croak compared to naturally smooth and the force and stringent nature it usually possessed. He should have known his Captain didn't make naive decisions when it came to fate and never took anything lightly. When he'd said not to turn himself in because they would destroy him, he hadn't been speaking out of his ass, but experience. He was all brute strength in every aspect of his being. His fortitude was iron clad. He should have accepted when Chris told him to begin with that there would come no good from turning himself in that he hadn't been simply being clingy. Certainly they were learning from their experimentation, but it wasn't the kinds of things they should have been joining league to do. But then that was Piers, it was what made him so indispensable to the people around him. The first reason Chris told him that made them so perfect together, because Piers was downright devoted to the cause. His faith took him to the heart of what they were doing for the people of the country and the reason he'd fallen so close in line with his Captain. Because nothing else mattered. They were just people in a war, but ones that could save those that didn't have the ability to fight. It was that bravado to do whatever it took no matter the consequence to himself that Chris loved so much about Piers, even though in this case it made a choice like this was so much harder.

The drive was making the sniper claustrophobic; being in the same cab as Chris. His Chris. The man who trained him who taught him everything from the day he joined until the day he 'died.' And yet a wholly different man sat here beside him, stoically staring up the road. The man who had brought him through the ranks would never have harmed those people, he would never have been able to do such things without recoiling from himself. He wouldn't have taken lives from anyone who couldn't have deserved that kind of punishment, anyone that didn't pose a direct threat and those guards, knowing those men, they posed no threat to Captain Chris Redfield, he had no reason to kill them where incapacitation would have functioned. Chris Redfield was the hero of many, the idol of his partner. He had to see that he wasn't this person. He spent years fighting tyranny and malicious wars, and now he was letting the virus take him, just like the way it threatened to steal Piers' sanity. He fought with it before in China, so hard that he'd sooner let himself get destroyed than go back and potentially harm others. Being brought back home with Chris, hurting him, being locked away, being the creature he was with the voices in his head he still couldn't perceive the idea of the one man he'd tried so hard to save falling so far. He didn't want the one time he survived to be the one thing that brought down his captain.

"I shouldn't have gone in without telling you captain, there was nothing I could say to make you understand though. I shouldn't have..." Shouldn't be alive? No he shouldn't, he should have been dead, rotting in the bottom of the sea before infecting Chris and changing his entire persona He would rather be in that pit of Hell saved for his kind than ruin the only man who had the right to survive it. "I shouldn't have let you take me from that place. Poor decisions aside Captain, those people were the ones we ensure our men to every day. It might have hurt, but what they did to me... I'm not human Chris, they don't have to treat me like such and I belong there. This virus, researching it might be the only way they ever discover a cure, even if it means what they have to do to me isn't something we are ready to accept." Looking at the newly formed fingers, those tentacled things that were capable of the deconstruction bodies and burning them to charred corpses. He could hear those voices chiding him in the back of his mind, jeering over the dead bodies. "Those people back there. I killed them or you did?" He needed to know, watching the yellow lines of the divider in the road flying by them, it was more important now. He needed to know because for all the life inside him he couldn't remember, and those bodies, those people who were doing their jobs just as they had done in China. It was midnight maybe, or later. "Tell me it wasn't you captain." He could take playing the part of Frankenstein's creature, but not his captain.

Chris heard everything that Piers said and it broke his heart, reading between the lines wasn't even necessary with the tone conveyed in those words. He hated seeing and feeling Piers in pain. There was a bond there that he shared with his partner, formed the moment his teeth sank into his neck that day and altered them both. The immediate impulse to the pity party his partner was undergoing was to bellow out at him the frail stupidity of his choice and ream him until he was capable of seeing his fatal little mistakes, but yet Chris could feel what Piers felt. No matter what that emotion might be; he could feel it. And it was destructive. The force and principle that Piers felt those things with was captivating. He felt those things with his soul, the want to be and save a world he had become so truly enraptured with. And the guilt. That guilt was what moved him the most, he felt it whole heartedly. It was due to acceptance of the mutated C-Virus and Chris knew that Piers, though he felt those things; Piers didn't appear to feel Chris' own feelings on the matter. Piers needed to accept the virus as Chris did and that would change. If this virus had connected them, then how was it they weren't feeling the same things. Sitting here it was becoming clearer the more that Piers fought with himself the harder it was becoming for his partner, where for himself it was a sort of calm. It was a feeling that it would end the internal conflict Piers was suffering from. Chris knew it would be hard for Piers to accept the virus since in honesty it went against everything he currently believed in, and he himself wasn't sure why it was that he had so easily done so himself. He would have to put in a lot of effort to get Piers to accept what was happening to him, but just from the soul of his partner, he could feel the berating wouldn't have helped him. What neither knew was that Chris was able to accept the virus so easily due to being rendered unconscious when he was under house arrest. The virus changed his mind and body while he was deep under, so Chris never had the chance to fight the effects. By the time Chris awoke, it was too late; the changes were irreversible.

"I killed ten people outside the Quarantine Facility at least, and I killed four men outside my home to escape from the B.S.A.A. due to house arrest-

"House arrest, Chris what did you do?"

"I was put under house arrest Piers, because brass thought it would be amusing to tell me about your little goddamn stunt instead of letting me find out by coming home to an empty house. They even had the nerve to be happy about you being in quarantine, like those ass clowns have some right to be happy about you getting butchered. I objected."

"Captain I-

"I was sedated for it and put under house arrest. Took me a few to come. You know if you had just stayed put like a I told you soldier, this wouldn't have happened. Doesn't take a genius to know I couldn't damn well leave you there. I was getting ready to get the hell out, then I found out that I was infected. To be honest, I was freaked out for a moment, I mean you can't blame me, looking in a mirror and seeing these orangey red things.., but I felt you in pain, so I got over it. I did what I had to do in order to get you out of that place and I don't regret it," Chris' words lofted to Piers as he kept driving, neither one meeting eyes with the other. It was easy to know things would not go back to the way they were in their professional lives. Both men would be labeled as traitors to their country for their crimes and the murder of over a dozen B.S.A.A. agents. If anyone was still alive from the facility after its electrical burn out, they would tell the higher-ups that captain Redfield was infected as well. The B.S.A.A. would put them both on their wanted list and would do anything to either capture or kill them both. It wasn't a shot in the dark. Chris had been called in before to take care of people that had acted in similar capacity, so it wasn't a stretch knowing that he already was on the shit list after his stunt keeping Piers from them to begin with. Chris knew that he and Piers would need to leave the United States eventually as well, their men weren't stupid, sticking here would ensure their eventual capture. With the protocols in place, most of which he himself had created, it was a sure thing that there would be no rest for them until they were safely from the B.S.A.A.'s reach.

Piers felt his chest binding at every word, wincing his strangely mismatched eyes closed and feeling the pain of his injured body dissipating as the car lights stole his attention for a few minutes. He killed those people to save Piers, to take him out of a place that he had willingly gone to and had all but accepted and resigned to his fate to. But Chris came for him anyway, even though he'd left him. Hang everything if that wasn't what made him feel the most horrific and abhorred all at once. "Captain... I am sorry." The Lightning Hawk felt heavy in his grip, turning it over in his toughened fingers with the familiar grip that he'd used for so long in the field before they'd removed him from service. Killing was second nature, but now innocent people. Killing, was a part of life. So why not do them both the favor and end the problem. Save the B.S.A.A. the hassle of sending their own team at the S.O.U. after them. A magnum was just as fitting as doing it with his own signature side arm. It was heavier in his grip than a 9-0-9 or a Samurai Edge, but if he did it now there wouldn't be questions later. His trigger finger cradled the weapon easily, staring at the silver for some time before finally tearing away his eyes; looking away out the window. "I'm sorry you had to do this, Captain. I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry that I have to be so damn sorry and you keep looking at me like that... like I'm not the monster that I am. I'm sorry that when the shit hit the fan, that it wasn't just me." Should he stop calling him captain? Chris wouldn't be a Captain anymore, not after the stunt he pulled.. but then Chris was always his captain no matter what place they were in. He'd follow him to Hell and back, and had, nothing could change that. Well what the hell do you say? I bit you and now you're as fucked up as I am? "Those people were doing their jobs captain. The job we had until not that long ago. Do you know how many men I've slaughtered? Those people keeping you under house arrest, did the same things you would have done to anyone else in our situations not even 24 hours ago. We were those people and you just... I... killed them." He could hear the nagging in his brain, the cruel condemnation of the virus that lived inside him that it would be better to just give in, become everything he fought against. It made the gun look that much more appealing. "Where are we going, Captain?"

"We're going to Jill's old home. H.Q. doesn't have information about where it is, it was a safe house for us back in the day," Chris told Piers. Chris was focusing his eyes on the road, passing yet another semi-trailer, focusing on everything Piers had said and also, the voices he could almost hear within Piers' head telling him to give in. It didn't take a genius to know Piers was thinking of killing himself, but the hell if he'd allow that coward's move now. Chris would not allow Piers to do that to himself and a bullet to the head would not be enough anyway, not if the Haos was any indication of how strong Piers mutated virus was. "Don't even think of killing yourself, Piers." The sniper looked at Chris in shock as he spoke, rolling the gun in his hands. "There is no way in hell you would be able to kill yourself and I won't allow it to happen even if by some chance it would work. I did not just kill those men, become a traitor, and rescue you from that facility just for you to try and off yourself. You are mine Piers. Do you understand that? Mine! I fell in love with you from the moment you were put into my squad. I have always wanted you by my side. After you found me in Edonia and my memories came back, I wanted you. I wanted you so bad, but I was never sure of your feelings, so I did my best to keep you close, keep you protected. Before we went after that bitch Carla, when you finally confessed how you felt, I was happy, but still consumed with killing that whore. When you infected yourself after you lost your arm, I almost lost it. And then you tried to push me into that escape pod alone...I refused to let you go and pulled you in with me. I did not go through all of that Piers, only to lose you now." Turning onto another side dirt track road Chris truck sent a cloud of dust into the air behind them, not bothering to slow from their 70mph rush. "And then the damned B.S.A.A. sent me to a fucking jungle in South America to do something the South American branch should have done. They wanted you to be their lab rat the moment they picked us up from the ocean. In order to do that though, they had to have your willing permission. Those bastards knew that as long as I was around, you would refuse to go. That is why they sent me away, so those assholes could tell you anything to convince you to turn yourself in and it worked. They used that flawless conviction of yours Piers, and you LET them."

Chris pulled the truck over to the shoulder and gravel for a moment to turn in his seat to look at Piers, twisted at the torso with one arm on the arm rest, the other on the wheel. He knew his eyes were no longer the same and it would take Piers some time to get used to them, but it didn't stop him from staring him down, meeting vermilion with silver and gold. There were other things that were probably changing his body as well and he just did not care, right now this was between the captain and his soldier. Chris accepted what the virus was doing to him and he knew Piers would eventually do the same, but it didn't matter, right now, he needed to accept the facts. "I understand your concern partner, I really do, but the virus doesn't change what you are; it makes you what you are meant to be," he said as he looked directly at his Piers' face. "Do you know how I knew you were in trouble? I could feel it. I could feel your emotions Piers. I even knew you wanted to kill yourself despite that little close guarded attempt of yours to keep it to yourself," Chris told him. "I am bonded to you Piers. I love you, and mutated, enhanced, whatever we are, that won't change how I feel. Put the gun, down." Chris leaned across the center console as he kissed Piers lips locking with as much love and passion as he could muster, pillowy lips succumbing to the feeling.

The idea that Chris was feeling his thoughts, his personality? They read each other like books in the field. They had to. Partners for the last three years before that stupid incident in China and they hadn't failed each other once in all that time. They knew every nod, every ignored question, and every technique in the book to convey orders and commands without a single word or signal. It was natural. Just like Piers ability to throw Chris around verbally in front of soldiers because he knew what Chris was capable of and what his intentions really were. Marco could have attested to that had Carla not shot him with her damn C-Virus. If Chris was intentionally telling Piers to do something and Piers intended on ignoring him, Chris could have picked up on it before without the aid of a virus mutating his system. That was just the kind of men they were. This newly acquired ability to read emotion was just another instrument in Chris' repertoire. He might have countered that little outburst of his about letting the virus take hold of him, might have argued the point that Chris was acting irrationally by suggesting he let a deadly virus create him into some ill-conceived mutant was not okay. Of course he couldn't argue the point with Chris mouth sucking out his words along with his tongue.

Chris was amused that Piers wanted to continue to argue, so he kept on kissing him just enjoying the rally of complaints and emotion thrashing in Piers' mind all drowned out by their lips tightly crushed together. He knew he would win this battle of wills in the end, but Piers was stubborn and he would have to be persistent. Chris could feel Piers' emotions and they were chaotic. Happiness, sadness, fear, curiosity…they ran a mile a minute with his Piers, they always did and with the added voice of the virus creating chaos within his mind it was all the more so. In Chris' case, he honestly felt that his mentality was finally stable. Ever since the shit went down in Raccoon City, his life was one terrible battle after the other. After a while, P.T.S.D. set in and eventually, it would have crippled him. Even when he fought against Wesker and beat him, he was dealing with the the disorder. Now though, it is a thing of the past. For the first time in several years, his mind was clear of the relived traumas. It was stable, and he knew what he wanted to do with this pulling away from Piers, leaning back so slightly from parted, gasping lips; and took a good look at his face. His fiery serpent like eyes could see the scars that were there along the underside of his eye that did not look as blind as it once did. He could see the outlines of a pale pupil there, along with the faded lines across his forehead and cheek. Chris thought Piers was the most handsome thing he has ever seen. It was causing discomfort in the man he sat across from but he didn't care, Piers needed to hear this, he needed to understand what was happening here. "You are so handsome Piers," Chris said, the soldier immediately turned his eyes away, averting his head, but Chris cupped his chin immediately, forcing him to meet eyes and see the sincerity. "Yes, you are…and you belong to me Piers. Not the B.S.A.A., not the S.O.U., not the country. ME! You are mine, and I will never let you go." Chris grip on Piers tightened, fiercely driving their lips together yet again, stealing the breath from those damaged lungs demanding every fiber of attention.

Kissing Chris that way was something that flooded every sense in Piers entire body. He never wanted to pull away, never be forced to leave that embrace. It felt so right. Still Piers wasn't done with this conversation, and he sure as hell wasn't done arguing with him over just who was going to be obeying who on the matter of this virus, but Chris had commandeered the conversation with kisses. He was a soldier, born and bred to listen to orders and this was Chris, his Captain. He wasn't meant to blindly obey orders, but back them up when it was what he felt was in the best interest of those involved. Breaking away from the way he was so completely fallen into the older man was hard but he couldn't think when Chris kissed him. Tipping his forehead against his own so that they were still at least touching, he gathered his mind back to him as it had fleeted from him out the window. "Change the subject again why don't you. We aren't done talking about this." Sighing, the younger Ace tipped his head back, nodding at the road. "We can't afford to sit here either..." Every time their lips met he felt electric surge through his core and he'd rather not short out the damn truck battery thanks to how fast his heart beat when they were touching. His huh? "So I don't get a say in the matter then? I belong to you? You are going to make all my choices for me?" It wasn't malicious, callous in anyway, it honestly amused him to great lengths hearing Chris talk about him like that, even when Chris had taken him in and they had started this relationship Chris never talked about Piers like that, never treated him like anything less or more than a soldier. Not like he was incapable of taking care of himself, he was a 100% ratio sniper; he knew what it felt like to be spot on because he always was, but even with that statement being fact, he still couldn't help feeling flattered at this new found possessiveness.

These things were so odd to hear from his captain. That he was handsome and belonged to Chris, which was two statements he hadn't thought to ever hear. Firstly, the dark lined scars on his face and body refused him to think that he would ever be considered handsome again. He wasn't vain; just..,. no he was vain. He liked being Chris' center of attention back when they were in Alpha together and it killed him to think he'd never look like that again. Hearing he was handsome was just cut throat, it hurt more than helped. And belonging to someone, he didn't remember giving himself to Chris. Admitting their feelings, staying with him, they were partners it came with the field of duty. But he always imagined their relationship would be the same. Partners. He wasn't complaining, just amused. To be owned? He was curious if it would piss him off to hear that Piers wasn't in any mood to be owned, but the captain was going to have to remember who he was talking to, and Piers Nivans wasn't a trophy. The man was a soldier, and he was infected. Two things Chris seemed to have wanted to forget. "Who said I belong to anyone?"

Chris heard Piers' statement and he couldn't help but be slightly amused. His face didn't show it, but he could feel that Piers was feeling a concoction of dazed humor and his natural stubbornness right now. Still, Chris had to show Piers that he did belong to him. Before they continued on he had to show him this was no mere sense of duty. He also had to show Piers that he was loved and treasured. "I said that you belong to me, Piers," Chris said it with intensity, his eyes glowing fiercely with each word; the response of which was his partner's wide eyed concern as Chris smirked. Chris knew that Piers was self-conscious about his looks and that he felt he was ugly, repulsive. Even before Chris was mutated, he felt that Piers was handsome. The way the scars littered his face and body looked artistic to him. Even his mutated arm had a beauty to it that was unique in its own. Now that the captain was mutated as well, he saw Piers in another light: He saw Piers as the most handsome creature on the planet. Others would simply call Piers a monster, but he was Chris' monster. _His._ Chris saw Piers as something to obsess over, to possess, to love, to be his. The virus inside Chris merely magnified what he felt for Piers to insanely high levels. If Piers would finally accept the virus as he has, he would have been able to feel it radiating off him, perched silently in the driver's seat."We can talk about this when we get to Jill's home. Let's go." Chris went back on the road, kicking up dirt. They had three hours to go.

_His_... it was foreboding on its own just hearing those words. If they were going to play 'rise to the challenge', Chris would lose; Piers was the man with everything to prove. Of course at this at least, there was no losing in that battle. Honestly, it was something that they did together. Chris gave the challenges and Piers proved he could stand up to them time and time again. It was a fun game. At least it always had been, right now it was alarming. He felt a tightness in his throat just seeing Chris' eyes like that no the red, but the determination, but if it was part of him, he had to deal with each thing in turn. Honestly though, the tightness had been there since the day he'd stabbed himself with the needle. It wasn't an easy thing to hide, particularly the heat it caused, that was easily masked so long as they weren't lip locked. It wasn't just that tightness because of the fear or concern, it was... something else. Something else he refused to address along with the rest of his deformities. He hated the silver of his eye; now not seeing the brown color Chris' were was just odd. He'd get over it no doubt, the same way Chris got over not seeing his hazel flecks. And the scars that littered him, and electricity that wore him down. A power strong enough to strip muscle to the bone and yet somehow his captain was capable of taking hand with him in that state. The virus had conformed to Chris, that much was obvious because of his ability to handle the amps surging through them. Either way, for the time being, if Chris wanted to talk about this whole thing later, he was more than game. Exhaustion was taking over. For now, heavy lids drooped closed finally as the white noise of the wheels on the asphalt whirred into his senses while they rejoined the freeway, letting it lull him to sleep. They had three more hours of this; and who knew what would happen from there.

* * *

**SO!**

**I added a ton to this particular part of the RPG for transition and persona sake! So skeletal remains of this belong to Mmori(tumblr) or Morriganna(FF), and me! Chris Redfield's personality changes and virus were creatively personified by mmori. This version of the enhanced C-virus were all playful additions on her behalf and keeps a very biologically confused Piers on his toes. **

**Hope you all enjoyed our next chapter and let us know what you think so far!**


	4. Chapter 4

The antebellum plantation that Jill had bought was huge, two stories of nothing but massive windows for natural lighting, a full finished basement the only thing she'd completed, and expansive attached land. And older, she was good for that, liked them older and with character. Jill enjoyed the old things she could fix or repair. Just like how she felt about her old partner and nursing him back to health after her return from death even though she'd done a shotty job of that. Piers had picked up where she left off though, and turned the world right side up again, even if it meant his own soul as a price. Still, it was a nice patch of heaven in the middle of nowhere with a surrounding wood that kept the pesky onlookers who did take the back roads, away. Four shattered windows in rear from the years of disuse and then flaking paint. Just an ordinary white decrepit thing to anyone else, but splendid home despite looking like shamble to Jill, with a picket fence in desperate need to repair. It would be cute, if they weren't looking to hide from their own people. This place made them look like soldiers hiding in an underground railroad, or that the British would march through with their rifles and burn it to the ground in their sleep. Whatever the case there was one thing this place had that no other place did. It had been Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield's object of affection for almost a year, with a zillion rooms for storage and a basement filled to the brim... with whatever two B.S.A.A. specialists could ever want, and from the outside? A run down oldstyle Georgia home with nothing but a few broken windows and a front porch swing that was dragging where the chain broke, clanking in the wind.

The long time rumbling of a muffler in need of a tune up had become the swan song of the two S.O.U. run aways, the only constant in their currant flight. A lurch of the truck coming to halt, shifting it's gravity forward startled the sniper awake from recovery, started with eyes bursting open until he realized it wasn't an assault but rather just the halt to their voyage. Sighing a heavy breath, he cracked his back using his own palm shoved against his spine from the discomfort it caused sleeping in a truck with no lumbar support, feeling disks shoved dramatically back into the position with loud pops. The seats killed his back along with the balance of his hips from being slumped so precariously in his seat. Biting the inside of his cheek, sharp eyes rest on the magnum; stealing it away from the other party, shoving it forcefully into the small of his back where what was left of fatigues hugged it to him. There was no holster to hold it for him, and even then he never had carried a weapon such as that, Chris was the true marksman, despite his old status. Piers preferred long range weaponry, but as it was the only thing he was fully capable and willing to carry it. "You're sure this place is safe right?" Rhetorical. Chris was rarely ever not sure and when he was it wasn't something he readily admitted. They had the record from China to prove that. Slipped out of the truck, kicking the door shut with hands trust deep in his pockets, Piers leaned against the cold metal of the hood, crossing his feet at the ankles, tipping back his head to look at the constellations. Long time soldiers could tell where they were approximately by using them. He'd never picked up that ability, but they were still beautiful. They would have lost their appeal if everything in life had to have a purpose. After coming back alive from that Hell hole under the sea, it became easier to recognize the beauty in the little things.

Chris followed suit shortly after, exiting out the driver's side and took a good look at the place. Jill intended to fix the place up, but intentions all good and fine when you are someone with enough time and independence to spend a lifetime fixing up a house and making a family for it. People like them though, all it was was good intentions. She never got around to it due to the endless missions and their lives complicated by every new threat to society. After that, with the end in sight she found herself being used by Albert Wesker for two years and considered dead. Once Chris and Sheva rescued her, she honestly forgot about the place since she was busy getting her life back together again. It made sense. What kind of person faces death and then returns to the world with an invigorated sense to fix up old houses. She abandoned the project and bought a house near base. Chris had come here from time to time though; to bring guns, ammunition, and other supplies here that might be something essential come the plague, an outbreak, or well... this. He never bothered to fix the entire home up, it wasn't as though Chris Redfield had time of his own to be a handy man, but if the entire world went to shit, he wanted to be ready for it. There was a small basement where he kept the supplies he would bring over more storing like a squirrel. Also, he kept one of the rooms clean for his use completed for overnights. The others were set up rooms for everything required come the eventual book of Revelations. After all Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, and Piers Nivans were soldiers, not family types. "Piers, one of the rooms should be remotely clean since I used it last time I come by," Chris said fishing out his duffel from the back and hooking it over his broad shoulder. He went to the back of the truck to remove the guns and ammo he had stored there as well in a place normally people with real jobs kept their tools. "I will put these down in the basement. That's where I keep the extra guns, ammo, and anything else you might need. There should be a couple of sniper rifles down there too, a few I've used over the years, but you are going to need to clean them up they haven't seen use in a few years. Why don't you go on ahead, I will meet you in my room in a few minutes," Chris grumbled as he unloaded his truck, heading within to get to work. There was a lot that needed to be done before they could even consider relaxing in any capacity.

Chris' deep voice jerked the sniper from his thoughts over the belt of Orion, following it toward the dippers he could never quite locate even as a child. His hazel eyes flicked over to the man collecting guns from the trunk and gave a brief nod not truly focusing all his attention on his captain If he were to think too long on the matter, it was possible he'd start in too soon, before they really had time for that conversation. Sniper rifle. Those were the last words he heard before his legs took him already halfway to the house, the rest of what his captain prattled on about. That was something he needed, something that would help make him feel whole again. He never felt better with a rifle snuggly braced again his shoulder. The door was locked bu of course, but the broken out window didn't really serve as any kind protection not that much traffic passed through this part of the country side. It was a body length window, old and meant for letting in the natural lighting, big enough for throwing himself through it foot first by grabbing the frame of it as leverage and landing on his feet. Gun pulled at the ready, mismatched eyes made tour of the darkened halls, one handing the magnum and letting his right hang to the side. He secured each room too many to count on the first level before; instincts on a contact high from being so long out of the field as he cleared each individual room before slipping down into the basement. A quick tug on the pull chain lit it via swinging light bulb enough to find what he wanted making note that obviously Chris had never come at night or preferred the Umbrella agency creepy zombie style of ambiance to normal lighting.

It was no anti-material and the scope was shit, but Chris had definitely stock piled weapons to his credit. His feet echoed off the unfinished walls, rafters with cobwebs dangling and sweeping over lean shoulders as each step was traverse, bringing him with ease to the gun cabinets, which yawned the expanse of three of the four walls, the last a work bench. An M40 bolt action quickly found ti's way into his loving hands, fingers tracing the curvature of the weapon with familiarity and giving it the attention desired, finger prints showing on the dusty casing. It felt so comfortable in his hands, a weapon he'd learned to use several years back before entering into the the army, fingering and drawing back slide checking for the rounds to make certain the weapon wasn't preloaded. She needed TLC, but she was superior to anything else in this cabinet in reference to long ranged weaponry. The Lightning Hawk and all its heft was quickly removed and replaced by an S.O.U. 9-0-9. He didn't need a magnum with his handgun and it was overkill in a pinch, he required more finesse, but this was Chris' arsenal and he was well known for both bark and bite. Slipping the scope up to his eye, he felt the ease of his body move into position, gripping a stand for it along with the ammunitions required, enough to supply him with getting the gun ready properly sighted and more for the oncoming battle. The only thing missing was the... at least Chris was thorough, the cleaning supplies.

Jogging up the moth eaten carpeted stairs, clear past Chris without any acknowledgement, mounting the steps of the first floor, then the second, and winding through the steps all the way to the highest most floor; just finding the highest point and immediately setting himself to the task at hand. Finding a window faced in the direction of B.S.A.A.'s most likely resource of a chopper. If one were to come it would be from that direction. At that, he cleared out the window, destroyed all remaining glass with a shatter, pieces raining down on the wooded porch below, clearing the rest out with his sleeve and kicking the shards aside with a booted foot. First to a knee, he lowered his body one hand to brace on the ground as he put weight to one hip and shifted his leg up to counter balance so that he was, laying prone, feeling comfort wave over his body. This place was his, a bubble of personal space surrounded Piers like a white light that no one couls see but blocked out all the noise and static and calmed his heart rate. In a different world this would be the only thing, his only thing... but those dreams were lost in China. Alligning the sights would be last, and first, would be to clean, fingers already weaving and getting to work with the rags and oils, his fingers burning with the familiar sting of old friends. He could easily live in this own personal bubble of his, where no human dared enter for hours on end the comfort and sanctity of it cleaning like a wonderful and expansive catharsis. After the moon hit the center sky and at last the pieces of a puzzle were soothed together to mate in a beautiful ceremony, Piers sighed, and dropped the scope to lock in position, and started religious ritual. Marking their position.

Knowing the captain, he intentionally let Piers go ahead of him into the house while he took his time, allowing him the long needed exercise of securing the area and getting some time alone to recover from what he could only feel to be the most invasive of moments in his lifespan. He knew that Piers was going through something he couldn't help him with, he could relate now yes, because his own body was going through changes he didn't yet understand. But Piers was always different than Chris on that level, Chris was a man of action, Piers lived inside his head. He needed space always did, he lived with about ten feet of personal space all around him at all times. But all he needed was time, it was all he ever needed. To process, then find the highest point to lie down and scope the area, sooths the savage beast. It was what he did in the field and since both men were in a dangerous situation with everything going on, Piers was going to do what he was familiar with. As Piers went downstairs to the gun room, Chris closed his eyes for a moment and let the world stand still.

He could remember Wesker hunting him down in West Africa like a feral cat, using nothing more than his superior sense of hearing and couldn't help at wondering how long it had taken for Wesker to come to understand his virus. To become a the machine he was, to control those abilities rather than blindly push forward on faith as they had done at the quarantine facility. A genius such as Albert Wesker, one who had spent a lifetime studying, hadn't required much time at all to become a force to reckon with, one that no man, even himself could hope to match. Without an understanding of virus genetics or anything else for that matter all he could do was go on instinct, the way that a baby learns to take their first steps, except Chris was a bull in a china store and didn't have time for baby steps. Instead, he made the obvious choice, test out the new equipment, learn the ropes the down and dirty way and just do it. Straining his ears, all Chris' concentration drifted to the floors above and below. He could hear footsteps going down stairs and knew it was Piers just from the characteristic swagger of musicality to his step. Chris could also hear Piers picking up and setting down weapons, sorting through gear and combing through the necessities. He listened for a couple of minutes longer and then stopped focusing to his ears as best as possible, senses befuddled by their sudden sharpness. The home was secured, enough to do the job, but securing the lower levels to invaders or the expected, their B.S.A.A. comrades was necessary and Chris shook away his want to explore these new found abilities, and sorted out the objectives. Safety first.

Chris knew some of his senses were better, but if he focused on one of them, they would be enhanced until he stopped, until all other senses were blotted out and he could could feel his sight fraying as he focused only on hearing and the same repeated when he put too much focus on his eyes, and the world became mute, tasteless, and all other senses ran a muck. . This was different than with Wesker it seemed, because with his arch rival the man seemed as though his senses were always enhanced all of the time, they were in fact his normalcy after injection, where Chris required to train his thoughts. Wesker was an advanced being, not an immortal one, but he was advanced, and it had made him a supremacist. Chris honestly wondered what else he could do, but he knew he had some things to do, so he went inside the home to drop off the weapons he brought with him and to pick up some to take for a stock pile within the room he wanted for security purposes.

Chris went directly into the gun room and unloaded the weapons he brought with him, completely depositing those inside his duffel and replacing them with the necessaries that he wanted fro his security upstairs. He was always prepared for the worst case scenario since the Raccoon City incident where basically his favorite horror movies as a kid came walking right out of the television and he was forced to deal with those people that he'd know so personally. He was the only one left from Raccoon that didn't want to forget what happened. Who wanted to remember such a time? The man who wanted to be prepared for everything and anything including the inevitable possibility that some day down the road it wouldn't be him hunting them, but them hunting him. Dealing with Umbrella, Tricell, and Albert had taught him to always be prepared for the worst. His gun room had more than regular guns in it. He had a thousand and one cataloged grenades, timed and remote mines, to which he noticed some were missing no doubt thanks to the man above, shotguns, sniper rifles (looks like Piers took one of them as well), machine guns, and handguns; a grenade launcher... He kept some of his old guns from his past in this room such as the ones he used when he was in S.T.A.R.S. heirlooms and functional instruments of killing. There was also one more handgun in here that was a spoil of war: Albert Wesker's custom Samurai Edge. Chris grabbed the gun and held it in his hand. 'You used your powers for personal greed and to take over the world. That kind of power is meant to protect not to destroy. That is the difference between us Wesker.' If there had ever been a time that Albert had felt human emotion then Chris didn't know it, but these powers were not for destroying a universe they strove to protect, it was for saving the one person he knew stood for all that honor and loyalty. Piers was the person he loved even if at the time he hadn't known it. Chris set the gun back down, grabbed his 9-0-9 handgun, assault rifle, a magnum, and two grenades before abandoning memory lane. He saw Piers go past him as he went to the highest point in the home. Chris went to up his room and set his weapons down on the table, time to prep. He began to think of the plans that needed to be made so both men could get out of the country.

Piers fingers nimbly adjusted the sight of the weapon that his Captain had dutifully supplied. He'd loaded her and had pulled the targets out of the sky without a second shot. He was hitting all the easy sweet spots and clinging to the grip, tightening it to his shoulder before relinquishing his hold on the weapon, stroking one hand over the top of it as a sort of praise to the device. The black metal left a faint tingle in his hands of beautiful familiarity before he left it staged toward the road abandoning the project to do recon on his captain below. His feet moved silently until he hit one of the squeaky boards that Jill hadn't had time to fix with her career in mind. It made him chuckle after the startle wore off, making note that if the end came, fix the squeaky floor boards, leading himself into Chris' door frame, comfortably settled there with arms taut across his lithe chest and embracing a large breath, the first sigh of relief. "Looks clear upstairs... probably won't stay that way but your truck is fairly nondescript, Captain. I'd say until they break out heavy artillery they won't be onto us for at least 6 hours... that's give or take considering the resources at H.Q. have never been high on the front of a man hunt and they won't want to raise any flags that will get them into the dog how with any local government or higher up." A smirk threatened his lips curled into a smile watching the older man, even giving a report he could help at observing how easily he adapted to his new senses compared to his own experience with the mutated C- had been more of a nightmare. It still was a nightmare that Chris was infected but physically the man seemed fine, almost too perfect considering their situation.

Swallowing down the heat and tightness in his throat, a hand slipping up to feel the warmth sliding under his hand and flesh before pulling it away, making certain the motion went logged as nothing more than a dry throat. Understandable considering his screaming for the last few hours. Chris informed him in the car it had been days..., no wonder he'd broken finally, but they hadn't discovered everything. They hadn't discovered all his personal changes and they hadn't been able to contain him either. He still kept his own secrets and those would go with him to the grave if possible, the less mutated people thought he was the less likely it would be for others to not trust him, that other being the one person who had come to save him from that Hell hole. The last thing he wanted was his Captain being any more worried than his state already suggested, he was still covered in blood and grim from the days before, and his being was almost completely worn from the physical exhaustion required when the virus took hold and he blew out the building he was being kept in. That entire scenario was one he'd sooner forget, considering it had landed them here, running from their own organization and completely dismantled. This was his fault, in a few manners of speaking, but he couldn't help blaming the captain for coming to get him. It was his professional responsibility to turn himself over, it was Chris' personal one to keep him safe.

His thoughts didn't stay long on that line of thought; they changed gears as soon as his eyes rested on his point man's muscled back, easily visible through the stretched shirt that tried and failed to hide his body. Chris was so much better than the rest of the world and Piers never wanted to leave his side again no matter if it had been right to do, there was nothing more right that Chris. Through thick or thin, this was his Captain, one he'd sacrificed his life for. He would struggle through this beside him, if this was really what his captain wanted. Still his thoughts were stolen from the worry at hand and fled, wanting a back of scars and map of history on that massive back, unintentionally earning him a snarky remark form his sniper that most likely in this instance shouldn't have been aired. "Need to learn to buy bigger shirts Captain... that one is doing _nothing_ but aiding the imagination."

Smooth tenor had a way with winding its way so inappropriately in times likes this and sounding far more fitting despite their currant situation. It didn't matter though, this was the man Chris strove to save and protect, so it couldn't have been more appropriate to respond, it was a delicate reprieve from this war. Chris always knew the shirts he wore sometimes were tight on his frame, more than tight; like a second skin that advertised his physical prowess, but he loved the way they felt and in the field, they were practical for him to wear. Of course right now, he could feel Piers' eyes on him not seeing the technically helpful parts of tight clothes but rather just what lay beneath, and he turned around to take a look at his ace. Piers still had the remains of his torn outfit from when he was at the Quarantine Facility and they did very little to hide that wonderful body that Chris loved to look at, no matter if Piers personal bubble included being blatantly stared at. The two hadn't spent time together to be together in nearly forever, and on top of that as proud and as certain of themselves as they were they were never truly physical. Those kinds of moments weren't the kind shared between captain and sniper even if one of them was never shy on the matter. They were soldiers though, and tender moments weren't in their vocabulary, and breeching rank wasn't in Piers' vocabulary. Despite all the obvious hindrances though, Chris wanted to have Piers in the worst way and he wanted him now. Getting up from his chair at the table side where he had been going over weaponry and cleaning up gear for the possible assault on their persons, he abandoned the project and walked over toward Piers. The bloody clothes still in place and drying against his broad pectorals, that never seemed to break his stride, nor the straying eyes on his frame. He invaded Piers' personal space in one step, his eyes beginning to glow a dark sanguine. Chris put his hand against the door frame and issued the challenge. "If you don't like my shirt Nivans, then take it off me."

Chris could almost hear Piers' heart skip a beat entirely, knowing full well the expressions and well read mannerisms of his partner and how quickly they changed when Chris issued anything akin toward challenge toward him. He could see the swallowing again as Piers stopped to let his eyes roam over the plains of muscle hidden by fabric, eyes resting lower on his stomach dragging hungrily. He knew they shouldn't be thinking about this, about how Chris always smelled like musky cologne and gunpowder, how even looking at the man was sinful. The blood sticking to him was ungodly off-putting but not enough so to stray his sights. His tongue curled in his mouth, fight the urge to break the tension and reach out and touch him, just to feel his body and those hard muscles under his fingertips. They were _supposed_ to be hiding. Still, fuck, everything about his Captain made him shiver at the thought, sparks dancing between his fingertips as his clawed the fabric loosely cupping his hips as his breath hitched from the way Chris eyed him conceitedly, knowing the effect he created on the poor sniper. The crimson like hue of those eyes bore straight into him daring him to invade that last ounce of personal space he retained but instead they both held back, Piers tipping his head back against the frame, his cheek resting beside Chris' fingers that clutched the door frame under a crushing grip. "That's alright Captain, I fine admiring the view." Whatever was wrong with his throat however wasn't happy to just stand back an watch and it coiled practically cutting off air being so close to Chris' heavy scent.

Chris smirked at Piers' attempt to back away from what was going to happen, it was like this though. His sniper was well versed in everything except intimacy and he shirked away like an uneducated child, but Chris knew what he wanted and how to get it. Everything going on aside his frustration had built up in other ways and just the implication between them was enough to make those things take a backseat. He felt too hot and horny at this moment, but then Piers had that effect on him even before they were ever together, it had started long before, when they had first become partners. When Chris told Piers he belonged to him, he truly meant it in every sense of the word, no other part of him had thought of anyone since, and he put his career on the line for this man so many times before. It he didn't realize how he felt by now then his sharp as a tack ace was duller than blunted crayon. But right now, it was too fun and there was too much tension to say no. "I am having a hard time admiring the view," Chris smirked, Piers eyes narrowing and portraying his infamous confusion toward his captain's advances until Chris grappled Piers without time to react and kissed him. Chris poured every bit of passion into the kiss and without subtext or coy games and pressured his body against the damaged soldier, his hands struggling to rip off the remaining bits of clothes Piers had been regrettably been confined within. Chris knew his partner, his reluctance toward anything but being a machine, but he wanted Piers to truly 'feel' what he was feeling at this moment how flooded he was after the adrenaline pumped through his veins. Chris was going on pure instinct and he grabbed onto Piers while still kissing him, tipping their foreheads together. 'Do you feel this Piers? Just let go…'

There were muffled words meant to stay between only them lofting in the air, but Piers' words tumbled off as Chris' mouth sealed on his own, letting the man hold him tight to the frame of the door smothering him, his back gouged against it and not caring as his shirt was torn up over his shoulder blades, seperating their kiss only long enough to throw it aside, not that there was much left to the tatters anyway, discarded on the floor beneath stumbling feet. His lean form fit perfectly to Chris' larger one, but then neither were small men, they were fit and hard muscled, slick with blood and sweat the way soldiers were meant to be. Quick reflexes found dexterous hands snapping to the trim waist of his older lover, holding them apart just as well as his strength would allow to keep their bodies from melting into one another. Stronger and faster, Chris had the upper hand in every department except agility and there the younger man triumphed much to his captain's chagrin; releasing his grip on muscled hips and peeling away off the door frame before ducking under Chris' bicep and stepping backward through the room. Air restricted, wincing shortly against the wave of electricity that surged over him courtesy of the adrenaline Chris pumped him full with as well as the arousal of the game they played at. Gritting his teeth against the feeling of those other things squirming in his throat and distracting from the unadulterated pleasure of the single moment they shared. He always felt strongly for Chris, once they had become more than partners though it had become more more difficult to express himself instead of easier. Each step took him further away but bought him time to accommodate to the flurry of emotion that attempted to over take him, along with the wrought voices in his mind hissing violent orders at him to throw Chris to the wall and caution to the wind and act solely on impulse. "Tell me Captain. What you said in the truck... Who do I belong to?"

Chris was obviously amused at his Piers trying to play hard to get, or to get away at all considering their obvious situation. 'Always so stubborn,' Chris thought. He felt pure titillation from Piers via their bond, and then notice just as he thought it... they had a bond. Whatever it was that had happened to these two, whatever had been transmitted between their systems through their shared mutation was binding. Was that even possible? To be connected to Piers on a purely instinctual level? To feel what they had almost like animals sensed through a sort of sixth sense. Through pheromones and otherwise? Perhaps why he could tell his partner was going through an anxiety attack over just having their mouths meet. But he was going to win this game, and with an added weapon to aid in his arsenal now it would make things potentially easier. Piers had more agility that was certain, and the virus enhanced it even further, but this was close quarters; Chris was faster and stronger than his Piers. It was interesting to feel the sort of dedicated struggle within his partner, with their bond, but he could feel the underlying reason for it and knew full well that it was the same one he was willing to overcome right here in this room once they discarded any remaining concerns.

Turning around to face his lover who was across the room now Chris slipped a smile on his features, removed his shirt and dropped it along with the pieces of his hospital issued pale blue, stained crimson. Chris noticed that Piers unconsciously licked his upper tier, moistening it either from his display of prowess or because of the kiss from his Captain taking all his breath away. Slowly, he walked towards the sniper each step measured, who was getting himself backed into a corner literally and figuratively. Piers was always a challenge, on the field and off, this was how being with him was and after so many years in the field and their associated nature to the military it was the only way. Chris' red, slitted eyes showed amusement, but more over lust. He smirked a lopsided grin at Piers when he realized now that he had snaked his way backward into a corner there there was nowhere to go and after a single hiccup his captain wasn't going to relent particularly after his small display of smugness pertaining to the shirt, or the way their lips melded together. It was something that mattered to him. Where before it would never have mattered that the blurred line that existed for them was a place lost between soldier and commander, and lovers. Piers never accepted the latter. He'd admitted to his feelings all of once, but since then it had always been Chris to be the straight forward take action type. He didn't need an invitation to act, never had. Piers needed incentive, needed a push to remember he wasn't just his captain's soldier all the time, and more over it would never be the same way again.

The greatest of epiphanies was that the fact that Chris had been altered in such an immense way that it was incapable of understanding everything but he understood one thing very clearly. The virus connected them more than he had ever expected. It connected these two soldiers on a level they could never have comprehended, it a way that seemed to make such sense to Chris. All his hesitations, his concerns were gone. Piers small quirks the man had all the reservations, he could feel them. Chris made him feel whole, but he scared the absolute shit out of him at the same time, and he had absolutely no idea why. It was more than like that same physical aspect that he carried and the rank. Piers was a soldier through and through. But if he could make Piers realize that that this virus... the way he'd been blocking it out for all these months, fighting it; if he just let the virus finish what it had set out to do, then he would feel this too, feel the connection that there truly was between them. Once that was done, Piers would be better off and the two of them would have an empathic bond that went both ways. Chris truly wanted Piers to 'feel' what he felt, especially at times like this. "You belong to _me_, Piers. You are _mine_. Mine to love, mine to possess, simply put, _mine._" Chris said it to deep, low, and dangerous, the way he was, commanding. He didn't need his superior speed, but the strength exhorted to grab and hold Piers in place was enough to keep him from the struggling he was so known for. He looked at Piers with his glowing red, snake-like eyes that looked resembled the raging inferno within the volcano in Kijuju. As he grabbed onto Piers, he kissed him with as much passion and love as he could muster, loosing himself inside the man. He knew Piers wouldn't be able to escape his hold , but Piers wasn't in control of his electrical powers, and he could feel the shocks arching off his body, tearing through his fingertips where he held tight to him, burning him to the bone. It had killed him to the core the last time they'd been intimate, the only time they ever had been. Piers' electricity amplified with his heart beat. He'd nearly suffered a heart attack being with him because the surges of energy, but now, his skin felt none of it, it was a warmth that burned into him in trails of a kind of tingle pain that tapered off and pooled in his stomach like a well known feeling he could recall. He didn't understand why the white sparks weren't hurting him, but they were deliciously sinful, making him groan into the younger man's mouth. 'Piers, I love you so much! Just give in to me Piers. Be one with me.'

"Yours," the words were soft, whispered against Chris' demanding lips, reveled in them, letting those pouty pillows part and slid his tongue tauntingly against his Captain's. The helix inside his mouth, those things inside him he'd hidden so well stirred, threatening to slip up and invade the warm cavern of his own mouth, making him bring the tiers back together. Eyes flutter shut, his hands finding those taut strong muscled pectorals and narrowly taking ribbons of flesh as they slipped over his plains, nails catching on strong abdominal muscles and threatening further as jolts of electricity slid over his skin like velvet. "What makes you think I'm yours, Captain? What makes you think I belong to anyone?" His own body couldn't help but react, mumbling against those strong kisses holding him fast to the corner. "I don't feel owned Captain..." His right hand pressed hard against Chris' chest, lightning flashing over them and through his fingers shocking him back with an almost playful look despite at how aroused the captain was getting despite the lightning teeth gouging his skin. Chris had to earn that title if he wanted it so badly.

The scores of electric surging off of his partner's body increased with every second longer that they kissed, and Chris felt every moment that the feeling danced inside their mouths, sparks against his tongue. Piers couldn't control the lightning as much as he couldn't control his heartbeat, the exposure to his captain enough to turn a naturally stoic soldier into complete putty in his hands. The two were locked together, Chris' hands winding while Piers, tongue urged him on, his fingers weaving into the legs of what remained of his own clothing. In prior days it would have been impossible to stay together this long. Being this close to the electric shards that weaved around his body was like being in the eye of a storm, heat and fire burning his flesh, but instead he felt a kind of tingling, a heat that swirled and bit into his fingertips and pooled into the pits of his stomach. He felt no pain from this whatsoever. He did feel whoever, an incredible amount of pleasure from what Piers was unintentionally doing to him. Part of him wanted to give  
into the pleasure his body straining to stay poised while their hardened bodies meshed together in the heat of their mouths, but if he did that then Piers would win and Chris would not allow that to happen. He resisted what Piers was doing to him, eyes clenching shut as they warred for some semblance of dominance. Chris' pants were already uncomfortable, straining from the amount of tension growing between them even now, and now they were burning away from the amperage that surged off his partner; kicking away shoes and socks, but he never released his hold on Piers. If anything, Chris held on tighter and showed that he was not in any pain at all on the contrast from the man heatedly grimacing in his arms from both agonizing pain that wounded his body. The way Piers fought with the c-virus, refusing to allow it to take him over, and at constant battle with the voices in his head, the soldier was swallowed in pain warring within his tightly muscled body, while his captain was filled with a lush arousal that had him keening for more. Like the facility, flesh went unmarred, despite how the white lightning tore way what remained of his clothing. But it was Chris who hedged first; and while he kissed Piers those hands holding him so tightly in place, slid down sweat soaked electrified skin down his abdomen to brush his calloused fingers over Piers' cock.

The mutated C-Virus changed both men in different ways. Piers' body mutation was externally-based while Chris' is internally-based. Piers' mutation was on display for everyone to see, and it gave his self confidence a huge gouge while eyes seemed to constantly undress him down to the arm that twitched and constricted when his captain gave those forceful touches. While Chris' new mutation was hidden in a way. Chris' body was turning into the closest thing to a tank that an organic organism can get. Removing Chris' skin would be very difficult and bonded and created by the same c-virus hat plagued his partner they were created counter parts. Even if the electric could remove flesh as it ripped and teared away to make electric burns, there was another layer, a more... _fitting_ layer, of skin underneath. Of course, there is more to that than meets the eye…

"Chris... stop..." Heat emitted from the infected duo as if they were a chemical reactor, the searing electricity as a result of the advanced genome mutation within Piers creating frantic currents within Chris' musculature. Pouted lips were dry and aggressively kissed by the elder man, muffling his protests and warning. Unwittingly, Piers had become a biological weapon, capable of mass destruction. He could still remember the excruciating pain which had racked his body in the underwater facility as he watched the monster pursue his Captain's escape pod. Electricity had filled the entire room, and the blast which came afterwards rivaled even that which Mother Nature could summon. His shining, silver ocular widened as the brawny arm of Chris reached down into his jeans to clutch at his meaty girth. Piers' stress level began to increase as he could sense the hormonal shift within the larger man above him, he could feel it. Chris was an impressive physical specimen, especially after the effects of the C- Virus, but how could he simply embrace and accept the changes the virus had upon him? Never again could Chris walk the streets without being persecuted or feared. He could never maintain a normal life. Albert Wesker had truly embraced his mutation, yet he had been the closest to genetic perfection a man could get. He had been an absolute genius, despite having become a megalomaniac. Piers clenched his eyes shut as electricity enveloped the two, turning his head to the side as he did his very best to suppress his power by keeping his heart rate down. Thoughts raced through his mind, and his own hormones began to go on the fritz, but the outcome of which would prove very differently than what happened to Chris. Accentuated pheromones began to warp, and he had no control over them as they seemed to come from his very pores. Not only can pheromones alter sexual attraction, they also have the capability of altering sensory perception. As his muscled pectorals heaved with each breath, the pheromones assaulted Chris not physically, but mentally. Soon, it seemed as if the room was spinning, more than the highest level of inebriation. There would have been multiple visions of Piers, haunting whispers within Chris' head just like the whispers within the walls of his own. It would not have been the worst that his pheromones could do, but it most likely would have been enough to allow Piers to squirm his way out from between the 'rock' and the larger physique of his Captain, stumbling a few feet away as he gasped, feeling the sudden lack of physical contact. Calm down, Piers... you can do it, step away; otherwise a section of Jill's house would become a crater.


	5. Chapter 5

**Again for those coming in late. This is an RPG that was formatted and written in story style. **

**Piers and all his crazy are belonging to Capcom, but in this story I wrote him. **

**Chris and his crazy are belonging to Cpacom, but for these purposes he was written by Mmori (tumblr), Morriganna (FF)**

**This section was severely rewritten for fanfiction purposes by me! However, grammatical editing was on Mmori's part. Thanks guys! And enjoy part 5.**

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Instantaneously, Chris' naturally acute vision started to become hazy and everything blurred, brief nausea taking over. Something Piers was doing was affecting him mentally and he was starting to lose his visual focus, seeing double and triples of the chips in the walls dancing in front of his vision as well as the sudden absence of the sniper who had darted away, but with this swirl of a headache created, it appeared more like a chinese dragon moving before his eyes. 'What is he doing to me? Damn it Piers, why won't you calm down? How the hell did he just do that?' "Piers, why are you fighting this? Goddammit don't you see that I want you?" Chris growled to his partner as his senses were began their haywire hallucination. His grip on Piers began to loosen as his senses were being attacked by pheromones he'd never expected the other to have, and realized the grip he loosened on the younger soldier was a grip that was already gone, and the man he'd been teasing along with it. It felt like the days when fighting Wesker, everything moving too fast that he couldn't keep up, but in this case everything was moving at half its own speed, a quarter maybe, and he wasn't moving at all, his body refused to listen to command while intoxicating pheromones filled his sinuses and senses, incapacitating him against a wall that his victim had once stood. He did not want to let Piers go, not for the life of him, but he was losing control over his own body due to what Piers was doing, consciously or not, and he'd already fled, without permission from his captain. He'd stopped stroking Piers and released his hold on him without even knowing it, spinning on his heels as Piers' pheromones finally forced Chris to lose control of his body, dropping unceremoniously to a knee that seemed to collide with added force to the ground while he tried regaining some of this deadened senses, his mouth filled with marbles and cotton. "Don't you feel my love for you? My passion for you?"

Piers was gasping for air, his fingers pressed against his own chest as he focused on calming down his heart rate. His head was spinning and the thing in his throat was killing him, just those kisses were enough to make his neck raw with the force of rasped breaths and the tightness he felt. God what was wrong with him, his own head was reeling? His steadied hand on his chest was doing its job, leaned uncomfortably against the wall of the room hunched over and sucking in oxygen as fast as possible. Chris had an effect on him that couldn't be described, his fingers relinquishing their hold on his flesh was heart wrenching in his chest like someone was twisting it in half trying to choke the life out of him. The anxiety of how much flooded his body just when his personal space was suffocating, but when their mouths touched? When His hands were griping and stroking his flesh, that was when his entire person went into overdrive. He was going to destroy the entire place the way the electricity was flaring off his body like a super nova of electric waves, jolting his nerves and setting his heart racing faster. Make love? Like this? He was practically gagging on whatever mutation had taken root in his throat and his right arm was threatening to peel all the flesh away and let that pulsing grotesque thing he hated so much destroy the entire place just from the arousal he felt. Hearing Chris' desperation only made him wince, white fire dancing through his lungs with ever breath. Turning on his heels, rubber soles thudding on the hard wood slates and creaking with ever step; and fled. He refused to be a monster in front of Chris. He was so much better than that, he deserved so much more, not like an electric monstrosity that he was. With a body as disgusting as his it was building vomit in his gullet that would soon splatter, inside or out depending on how far he made it out the door. Hurtling himself out the heavy door and out on the front steps, stumbling and trying to get some cool clean air in his lungs trying to calm his heart rate somehow, his stomach contents spilling over the steps with filmy acid at the corners of his lips, smearing it away with the back of his hand, gasping. Damn it Chris, of course he wanted that, of course he wanted the physical contact, to be intimate with the one person he had only ever truly cared about, but like this?

Chris fell to the floor when Piers' pheromones went into overdrive. His hearing told him that Piers was leaving the room, but he could not focus on where he was going, could focus on anything but breathing as the air cleared around his cranium. The side effects of those unexpected pheromones would wear off shortly due to the mutated C-Virus in his system that was capable of healing his system, but even such a short wait seemed like an eternity when he knew his partner had pulled a disappearing act. His hearing was the first to meld back into normal, six sounds becoming one and resonated to the beat of his own feet on the ground; finally back to normal first and his sight was beginning to clear up as well. 'That is one hell of a weapon Piers has.' How had he never noticed that before... unless it was strictly for him. It made sense that he could now connect with the virus Piers had, but it was still horribly affective. Made for him, or for others, one way or another that sniper had a biological upset in his midst. His normal functions were finally clear after hefting and heaving himself upright, blinking rapidly throwing himself forward into the middle of the empty room, throwing himself back into the moment, taking in the world around him as it now appeared to how he recalled. Parts of the room were completely destroyed; devastation torn where electric lightning scored and slashed parts of the room and blackened wood, burning wallpapers, and a scorch mark around the wall where he'd pressed him against wrought in the shape of that lean body. If they had kept going it was likely this entire section of the house could have been blown into pieces (or the whole home for that matter). It was an impressive force his partner carried, even if it was a bothersome one. 'Piers always was the smart and crafty one, making sure this place didn't find it's end because of a bit of fun, still, I will win at this game. You started it sniper, and I will finish it. You are mine Piers.' Heavy brown eyes closed shut, thick lashes woven together and he began to focus on his senses, most importantly his ears.

They were working properly again and he could tell that Piers ran outside; hear feet touching the grass outside and hard breathing impeded only when he vomit wretched onto the porch, weight causing the porch to creek. Piers had nowhere to go except for the porch and the yard around the house, the rest was woodland and a place that was far more vast than he should be wandering at this moment. They might have been warring over what situation the were in, but it never changed that wandering off could lead to them being caught and that meant Piers... had no where. Chris was faster than he was anyway. Maybe not before, but he was now that he was infected. Long strides carried him through the house no modesty required though he knew his appearance was an impressive one, one that could make Pier turn tail and run from the impact it had on his system, so he traversed the house at his own speed, listening to the sounds around him and how he could funnel out other noises until he was strictly focused on that of his 'prey' who paced outside like a lion trapped in the confines of a cage. The thunder of his ace's heartbeat was slowed now, but of course the younger soldier had training to correct that kind of situation that he received in the military. No sniper could make an accurate shot without being able to calm themselves with a fair amount of ease. After avoiding the puddle of acrid fluid on the porch saw Piers, hands behind his pack walking too and fron with eyes locked in place still focused on the sound of his own heart in his ears and not the man watching him so fervently. He was such a dedicated soldier, so easily flustered by only Chris, and yet he shut out the world with ease, it was both flattering and confusing why it seemed to be him that set Piers off. He wanted to admire him a moment longer, watched to watch him pace, but he watched rhythmic hips and measured steps on the next turn, face away and start to stride away, evidently making their own statement about how he felt on Chris following him without ever needing to look up. 'I am bonded to you, Piers. You should be bonded to me as well. This was meant to be my Piers..., why do you always fight so?' The earth was evidently moving precariously beneath Piers' feet, the captain watching as all those pheromones shook loose from his other's senses as well, his head still reeling from whatever he'd done, voluntarily or not so. Interested in how it was that the captain had revived himself quicker than the sniper had, even if he'd been the one to emit them.

Chris shouldn't have followed the tawny haired bioweapon; his senses didn't need to be enhanced to hear those heavy weighted steps on the porch wood. It was old and creaked with every step, particularly that man's. Snipers learned fast to utilize their senses to the best of their abilities even with his throat dry and his eyes still hazy, it didn't take much to discern the only person here from the rest of the world. "Captain." He silently acknowledged the other, letting him know full well he had heard those impending footfalls, fingers clenching in a fist as he took another deep sigh of oxygen, feeling it nip at each bronchi. The cold air felt good in his chest, filling his lungs repeatedly, his chest warm despite the fact that Chris had all but stolen the remaining shirt off his back in a time like this. It wasn't insanely cold out, just enough to make him relax, enough to make those tan muscles contract and raise goosebumps on his flesh while displaying the rest of his discomfort for any spectator that was admiring him despite their situation. He didn't stop walking, that slow, steady stride taking him away from the porch, one measured step at a time, out into the yard. Piers wore vexation on his sleeve, showing clearly what it was that had bothered him. He didn't want to be close to Chris, so much so he was willing to leave him standing there on the porch while he came to small sized oak tree firmly seated in the yard. A tree he promptly gripped the lower branch of, fingers wrapping about it with ease and using all momentum of his stride and the well trained muscles which could manage more than well enough to pull their weight; swinging his weight with ease up onto the lower tiers, skating upward enough to sit out of Chris' sight, leaves trembling in the wind to reveal him every so often, perched in silence with his back to the trunk. He needed time, to think about this, even if Chris wasn't in the mood.

Watching Piers grab that tree branch and climb it with ease, all that well honed ability; it was remarkable. His agility was something to behold and Chris was honestly impressed at what Piers had done. He would give him some time, a tad bit of it, relax from the path he seemed to be going down, but he could feel his partner's dismay and he couldn't understand why it was the ace was so incredibly upset. Always fraught with complications that one, including what had happened in the facility. This couldn't be that could it? Piers could get pent over just about every little thing, he was a perfectionist that way, and if something went wrong, deviated just the tiny bit from those plans just the slightest it made his partner turn into a mountain of trouble. After leaving for Brazil, the sudden disappearance of his partner, only to find he'd handed himself over to a pack of Hell hounds... like Piers had any right to be more upset than Chris. This was going to stop now if he had anything to say about it, even if the younger man had agility like a damn to catch his evasive little partner no matter if he was going to brood or not. They needed to have this conversation right here, and right now. Thanks to Piers he was already fully nude as well; burning the rest of his clothes off with his electric stunt, but he did not care. Chris Redfield had very little modesty, particularly in the middle of nowhere with a man he'd considered well to be his lover as well as his partner. His only goal now was to get Piers out of that tree and into his arms so he could give him a proper reaming. To prove to him this wasn't some kind of fluke. To make love to him prove that he wasn't some kind of monster like the thought he was. To prove to Piers that when he saved him it wasn't because he looked at him like an experiment, but because they were much more than partners. It was getting frustrating, infuriating. They were soldiers and he had gone through hell to save this man, twice now, and for a reason he couldn't comprehend Piers never imagined he was good enough for him. Well he didn't sacrifice his career so he could climb a tree and ignore their situation.

Chris walked to the tree Piers had climbed and look up at the man perched there; the one he loved more than anything else. Piers had that solemnly quiet look at Chris, but the captain was anything but amused. He looked at the tree bark, then up along its veins toward the place that carried his lofty pain in the ass partner, and back down to a knot. It was weak, weak enough it bowed under Piers' weight alone, it would never support him. Though the saying that captain of the S.O.U. Alpha team was a gorilla now came into play in his mind and rather than climbing a one sided relationship between himself and a boulder came to mind. 'Well, this would be a good time to test my strength wouldn't it.' He took one more look at Piers who was still refusing to relent his position, eyes locked on the forest lines around them with his arms tightly crossed over his chest. From this position it was almost amusing, the two of them staring down each other without staring at one another. Piers was trying not to look, that was the tension, and Chris was trying to force him to, because once they moved from this deadlock it would be out of the sniper's wheel house and into Chris' side of the court. Pain in the ass agile snipers... he had the indignity to look amused. Chris took one step back, clinched his fist, and punched the tree with all his strength. The impact that narrowly shattered bark off the trunk jarred Piers and set his eyes wide, slipping from his position to stand on the branch and grip the one above it for stability. Was Chris really going to fight to get him down? Piers, on his own, was basically a nuclear warhead and the two of them together? He couldn't imagine. Though in all honesty, Chris without any clothing was as amusing as it came watching him punch the shit out of the tree. Smirking, the younger man sidled along the branches until he'd worked his way around it, jumping out before it shuttered under the sheer force of Chris' pure physicality rumbling free of its rooted base and careening toward the ground.

He was thankful for his pants because it made maneuvering easier on his part, landing in a crouched position in the grass; leaping out of the way of the thundering oak, crunching and munching under its own weight. The levity of watching Chris all but ruin that tree naked made him chuckle even if it had almost crushed him beneath. Working with Chris was far more stable, than _being_ with him. Their relationship had intense ups and downs and he was fully aware he was hormonally a wreck because of the pheromones that tugged his senses every which way ever since China. Watching them beat Chris to a raging hulk like that just made it harder. Wetting his lips with a dart of his tongue to the upper tier, pushing and pursing them together to moisten his mouth he shook his head; watching the heaving form still poised in action form tearing his knuckles up on the bark of a wrecked and shattered trunk. He watched him perched in the grass, elbows on his knees, with his face the picture of calm from the landing and rested in his palms. "You could have asked me to come down... you didn't have to take up a stand against trees on my account."

"I wouldn't have to soldier, if you would stay in one place." Chris was monologuing while circling, seeking to find the sniper in amongst the crumpled branches, leaves, and shattered twigs. Rustling leaves alerted him and a squirrel darted, bushy and disoriented. The enhanced sense of hearing had returned to him, but it was weaving in and out, making it hard to pinpoint where Piers had perched himself in the grass. "You are mine Piers. Mine to love, mine to own, mine to cherish.. I saved you for a reason partner. Its not so you could hide from me because you don't know if you're ready, after China you'd think that would be obvious for you. Apart from this side show of you never listening to me, its about time you did, so take my advice partner, you are ready... you just don't know it yet. I would never save you without knowing how I feel for you Piers. Now stop your running... and get your ass over here!" Chris bellowed the last words, red flared eyes finally resting on tawny hair at the sniper waiting for him around the broad upper branches of the meager oak. "Why do you have to keep running Piers? What are you afraid of? Stop being worried about being close to me, I'll never hurt you... never." With intensity, their eyes bore into one another, completely deviated from what they once were. Red and mismatched where once they had been Hazel and chocolate, but that sadness echoed hidden behind the amusement was all too obvious keeping their eyes locked and pinning Piers in place with that concern he held so tightly to, along with his moral compass, eliminating the possibility of retreat.

Chris was a damn persistent man, it was kind of endearing, always had been. The man had this willpower that made him impressive in the field and awe inspiring with his conviction, but it was evident that at this point, that will wasn't something they were both on the same page about. Seeing him turn on his heel like that. The hazel and once so of those sharp oculars steadily followed, movement. Between the two; Chris was stronger, faster, physically superior, so if it came down to it, he could force him to hold still he Piers made him do so; but as far as it went between them Piers had the ability of a cat. Instantly, he slipped to the side of the hand that reached out for him, fingers curling around the grip of his 9-0-9 before they retreated just as fast. He would never hurt Chris, not intentionally. No matter if he was hell bent on getting a hold on him or not. Chris however was the same, he would never hurt Piers. Restrain yes, hurt no. He wasn't sure Chris understood his reluctance, because it had nothing to do with what was on his captain's mind. Piers wasn't afraid of intimacy, or perhaps he was, but it wasn't the subject at hand. Chris had been infected, by Piers. That was the issue. The one thing he had tried with desperation not to do, the reason he'd almost buried himself alive under the oceans was because he was avoiding this very thing, and now... now his captain had become not just infected, but as traitor to his country. . Chris calmed his body down and the fiery red glow in his eyes dissipated, still slitted, but no longer glowing with that same ferocity. They had to understand one another. Of all times for Piers to start questioning his captain's leadership. "Piers, have I ever guided you wrong? Get in line soldier, this isn't a democracy, its a dictatorship. It always has been. So stop this running away, the fighting, and just tell me what the hell crawled up your ass."

The terms gave rise to Piers' perfectly sculpted brow arching in annoyance, taking his captain's commanding tone in stride. "I will never 'accept' the things this virus has done to me Chris. It's really easy to explain. We were partners. Who I was, was what I am meant to be, not some genetic misfit because I made the choice then and there to save your life. If I hadn't you would have died. And by the looks of it, I've killed you anyway. I infected you, I have to accept that, but I don't have to believe that I'm supposed to be like this. That you are. I can't just ignore what's happened and I can't relax until we've figured out how to deal with it." Watching Chris' formidable stance, hands curled into massive fists that rested on his muscled hips, instilling the need to defend himself immediately and setting Piers' nerves on fire with electric. Chris was really what caused his heart to jump. "Don't make me do this, Chris. Don't try and make me someone I'm not. You are letting yourself go. It the reason I can't look at you, because you aren't... you. I fought by your side captain. You really want to tell me that this is what's right?" Chris wouldn't hurt him, and he wouldn't force him to do something he didn't want to, at least not the Chris he knew. Who knew what his line of thinking was now that he was infected? If he honest to God believed it was help him, then there was a chance he would do something Piers was likely to regret. This was more or less a losing battle, he could see it in the redness of his eyes.

Chris listened to what Piers said to him and it became clear: Piers did not understand what he meant about accepting the virus. Piers did not understand that the changes he is going through were going to happen no matter what and accepting the virus just made things easier on himself. Chris would never want Piers to be something he was not. Hell, the changes the virus was doing to Piers were almost finished as it was. The virus not only changes your body in a manner that suits the host, but it magnifies the host's personality to insane levels. The things that mean the most to the host become the most important and they take priority over everything else. In Chris' case, the most important thing in his life was Piers. Others would think it would be the B.S.A.A. an organization that he helped form to protect his country. Stopping bioterrorism should have been the most important. Or even Jill and Claire; those people he considered family and had begun this war in the first place to protect. They had been, but no. The moment Piers Nivans joined joined his squad, Chris fell hard for him and his feelings for Piers started at that point. That pain in the ass, never yielding, always the guided moral compass, with _annoying_ accuracy might he add, gorgeous sniper. Hell of a guy to pick to bestow his feelings on, that was for certain. As they got to know each other and became partnered up on missions, his feelings for Piers grew. It wasn't just physical, not that that attraction and sexual tension couldn't be avoided on the field, but Piers had the resolve sometimes he only wished he had. Always keeping on task, that staunch, overbearing bravado he demanded of everyone. After a time, it was the only thing that mattered. After years together like this it became obvious why it was so annoying that Piers could be so damn loyal all the time, why his morality bothered Chris so much. It was because he use to be that man. He use to be Piers, except he'd lost all that and become all about revenge until he he could save Jill and kill Wesker. After that there was no going back. He was already changed, he couldn't be like Piers anymore, with his proud certainty. He wanted it. He wanted to keep Piers safe and protect him from being like him and the longer he fought with what had happened to Chris the clearer it became that that was what was happening right before his eyes.

Chris knew Piers could take care of himself, but he couldn't help feeling the way he did when it came to Piers. Now that Chris was infected with the mutated C-Virus, those feelings for Piers had magnified to a level with no limit in sight. Somehow, he had to make Piers understand that as well. He knew what had been most important to Piers, because since the day they returned it had been like an icepick in the back of his head. Chris. And not just Chris. It had been the goodness he sought to recover from inside him. The captain saw that Piers was ready to bolt and he began to move forward. This could also end up being a battle of endurance as well, whichever one would relent first. The longer they faced one another in this stare down, the longer they kept each other captive under their dueling stares; white fire of electricity that danced under his skin. The electricity was sadly not on his side. Chris' mutation allowed him the ability to feel those rivaling spark without pain, Piers' body never adapted to it. Even in China, it damn near killed him using that much electricity and it stayed his hand from reaching out or touching the commanding officer before him and instead weaved backward away from him, horror dodging in his eyes. Chris had had to deal with the electricity before, but that was what it had been. Dealing with it. They avoided it. But instead, here they were one seeking to close the gap, and the other dodging his own mutation like a plague. Piers could dodge all night long, but it couldn't be allowed, not in their situation. This had to be dealt with, and now.

He hadn't started this in these few short days either. Piers had started dodging him ever since day one of his recovery after China. Hell the kid even made sure that when he was in the white roomed quarantine that Chris lost all admittance to him because he hadn't wanted him to witness what he had become. It wasn't as though it wasn't horribly obvious that his sniper wasn't only still infected, but that he was also still mutated, but to what degree he hadn't known until he was able to observe him within the facility. He was embarrassed? Or scared of himself. Any number of things were possible, but it didn't matter what it was, because after this, after seeing to what lengths Piers would go to hide himself from Chris it wasn't acceptable any more. They couldn't move on from this, if Piers wasn't willing to hedge all his stalwart, irritatingly defiant ideals, they would get no where. That uncomfortable silence was also giving him a moment's peace t take in passed the nervous ticks and note how quickly Piers started to lose his edge when Chris was near. They were living together before this, had slept together once before this, but never had he seen the kid so completely off his game and willing to run from a problem rather than face it head on. His mutation was obviously effecting him more now than ever, and it wasn't until then that he noted the tight swallow accented by Piers' throat shifting of its own accord. Piers did not move from his spot as Chris got in front of him a nice reprieve from this cat and mouse game. "Fine... I get it, you are upset because of what happened to me. But lets phrase this another way soldier. What are you hiding from me? You've been hiding since the day we got back from China, and I've had my fill of it. What the hell is up with you huh? I know you are infected, we both are, and I know you hate that you can't touch anyone anymore with feeling like a fucking circuit breaker, but that's no reason to bottle all that shit up. I know about your arm, I've dealt with it, and your eye, but lets try this one out. Ever since I crossed that personal bubble of yours you haven't been able to even swallow. What's wrong with you hm? I want to know, now," as Chris spoke to Piers as his eyes glowed, he couldn't help them, but he noted how when they did there was that same tightness in his partner's chest, trying to swallow back retaliation. He wanted to be sure his Piers was alright. He knew he was irrational, and the moodiest son of a bitch he knew, but Piers had a tendency to ignore his problems in loo of other people's.

To prove point to case; a hand instantly found its way up to that throat, clutching and hiding the feeling of tightness, unable to hide wincing back the slight fear and more over difficulty he felt when it snaked against his fingers. _Fuck._ Chris didn't need to know about this, he wanted to, but he didn't need to, just like he hadn't needed o know about the voices in his head or the guilt he felt over his infection. This damn thing had been inside him since he had recovered from the underwater facility, and he'd known it. It was a non-issue. One that wasn't a problem unless the pheromones in his body decided to go completely haywire like they had in the room. Apart from then it was manageable. Up until this point however, he spent very little time lip locked with Chris, like they had. Piers was not affectionate for multiple reasons, but this was one of them. Since China he couldn't stand in close proximity to the captain without trouble and he was slowly easing himself into that. Learning to be. The night before the plane to Brazil left had been a horrible display of why. His body was altered with the C-virus, he'd lost control of certain things, and when he'd bit him on the neck, since then this thing inside him reared its ugly head. It knew damn well what Chris was and it wasn't afraid at all, even if he was. It only had started being a problem since the other man had been infected, he'd learn to cope with that as well. "It's nothing, Captain." His commands were non-negotiable though and his years of being under Chris' command had him never fighting actual orders. "It's a... it's a part of the mutation. It happened back in China, just afer they brought me in and said they could do nothing to stop the progression." His eyes dropped to Chris' large broad chest before jerking them back up, eyes fluttering shut, well he felt the helix in his throat coil just from the observation of Chris' body. Evidently knew its own kind. That or Piers was just over the top for Chris which wasn't out of the question for him either, but they were suppose to be being rational here. He had always liked Chris, admired him. This wanting him so badly it hurt was nothing new. That was just how he'd always felt, but this overbearing urge to just fall to his knees in front of him and beg for forgiveness, mercy, understanding, love; those things on the other hand been something he repressed for years and now was once again at war with. "Really Captain," he felt the ribbon of mutation slide up his throat and shut his mouth instantly to hide it as it twined with his own tongue.

"It doesn't look like nothing, Piers." Piers was being stubborn about what was going on with his throat, but Chris was not going to tolerate it. He was already putting on his soldier's front and at this point they were the only two people on the planet. There was no shutting the other out. He wanted to make damned sure the man he cared about was alright. He had to be sure. He didn't go through hell so Piers could pussy out about all this. Chris walked directly into Piers' personal space without any further restraint and gripped those lean shoulders so tight there was no escaping him, bruising the tissue or not to free himself from concern of flight or fight. He took a closer look at Piers with his fiery snake-like eyes. "Open your mouth now. Whatever is in your throat, I want to see it...," defiance greeted him, and silenced in a single instant."That's an order!"

Shoulder heaved and the younger soldier practically lost every ounce of fight in that lean frame having the Captain's hands clutching on his shoulders, taking over as he always had to. They fought with the urge to stare each other straight in the eye and instead the loser sighed under the weight of Chris' demands and gave himself over. Pursed, pouted lips opened reluctantly, parted only just enough that Chris was appeased he was following order. Just being near the larger commander; the tight heat of velvet instantly took its cue and slipped between those sweet lips, Piers fighting the color that rose to his cheeks at having Chris naked holding him there and examining his mouth. He couldn't help the guttural groan he emitted from having it hit the cool air. Chris' eyes were boring into him and it didn't help the light headed feeling that clung to him, clenching his fist as a surge of electricity threatened him from both embarrassment and the lust he felt for his commanding officer, the pheromones pleased to loom over him and cast their shadow. The warm tendril slid over his lip, much like he did himself with his tongue when those tiers were chapped; before slipping back, finding nothing for it in the open space and practically choking the younger man when it warred with him for the use of his tongue. Damn thing caught up with his own tongue it made him wince his eyes shut. Grimacing as it reverberated in his throat when he spoke. "Just... it's a pain is all, Captain. Its nothing." He dropped his gaze refusing to meet Chris' stare until he realized that that meant he was staring down at Chris' body rather than the 'oh really?' expression he was surely receiving. The hands on his shoulders held him place as he fought to swallow again. Piers learned a few days after he discovered the damn thing not to swallow too often too. It was freaking sensitive as hell and felt way too good for his own good.

"Open your mouth again," Chris commanded.

Piers obeyed the command But what he hadn't expected was the feeling of rough lips, encompassing his own, joining in the war for dominance over that humid atmosphere inside his mouth. The tendril was joined by a second that twined Chris' tongue, pushing back and battling while hands that cupped his shoulders released their grip and instead slid around his back, deepening it, letting those mutations inside his partner invade his mouth. They were slick and toying with Chris, and Piers could feel every little slid they made over those taste buds in his mouth and the way they felt out the corners of it when Chris' tongue found his own and took the time to languish in the sweet heat, causing taut muscles to loose and melt in his captain's arms. The minute Chris' lips were on his and this battle had begun, slim, nimble digits wound carefully around backside of dark brown locks , gripping at the root. Canting his head to the side Piers could barely fit a noise or word in as those mutated ribbons slipped from his mouth to Chris', invading and warring with his senses spreading the heat like inferno, threatening at the back of his Captain's throat. _Fucking hell that felt good. Why did Chris always feel so good?_ They confessed their feelings to one another thoroughly long ago, after they had returned from the depths of the dark places in life and Chris had saved him once again. Once they'd saved each other. Hell, they had even had sex before..., once, and it had led to this infestation of his caption's mind. They had nothing separating them here in this place, yet even the thought of this, of strong hands on him, made his chest tighten. Every nerve ending, sending their messages through his hand tingled and set on edge as his other hand found that thickly muscled waist; clinging to him and letting the pulse run through his own skin into Chris, dancing over his flesh. The feeling of Chris' tongue languidly brush against his own as they kissed made his back arch just the slightest feeling the saliva at the corners of his mouth from having both those things and Chris, still fighting to get oxygen in the process, into stifled lungs.

Bolts of electricity jumped from one and into the other. Chris felt no pain. He could ignore it enjoying finally spending time delved into his partner for the first time in too long. An incredible amount of pleasure was being fed through their mouths when suddenly the ribbons of dark grey flesh that sought to purge themselves inside their captain's mouth, sent a jolt through both tiers and mouths and over Chris' tongue. Bolts that danced across his skin and entered his body across those lips and into the man's gullet. It stopped this prolonged engagement between them, pulling apart from kissing Piers for a moment as sparks danced between their teeth so he could breathe. As he moved away from Piers' mouth, both tendrils snaked out to lap at rougher lips, until Piers willed them to go back inside his own mouth by sealing his lips shut, forced to relent to him. Chris could feel the pheromones Piers were emitting from his pores, from those things that had been in his mouth, the source of those pheromones had been writhing in his moist cavern. Chris used his right arm to wedge behind Piers' head and guided him towards the junction of his shoulder and throat; to the slit in his neck, "You aren't the only one with secrets soldier." He was pleased that Piers let him manipulate him; let the "mouth" out of the slit, and pulled his partner until Piers' sealed his lips over it. The moment that slit in his neck opened, Piers lips covered it, the tendrils in his throat slipping inside with ease as his hips rocked, hazel eyes clenched shut as the things in his mouth increased their need to have whatever they could, licking against the slit in that neck and down into the 'mouth' that Chris offered to him. So they had similar afflictions... and at that moment he gave in, clinging their bodies together as tightly as he could and moaned into the feeling.

Chris' hand locking him in place as the 'mouths' fused together made Piers all but gag, electricity and sparks surging through his body; through fingertips, and every crevice of his form. The tendrils in his mouth lapping irrationally at the slit; dancing electric pulses from one and into other That created an arc of energy between them until light sparked through their air. Chris groaned deep in his throat, holding him their with his head fallen between the two blades until the electricity that sought refuge within Piers' form turned its wrath on the world around them. His fingers numbed from clutching him there, silent, gagged whimpers from his partner clawing at his side from the amperage fighting his wants until Chris finally relented; releasing the back of Piers head as he fell backward on his palms on the earth behind him. Grass and dirt, cool, while he gasped for air and arching his back as lighting danced over his skin, clearly visible on his stomach and crackling over his pores; scoring his appendages. Saliva was slipping out the corners of soft tiers, pouted lips still agape, his eyes clenched shut as he tried to reclaim oxygen that refused to fully inflate aching lungs. Being with Chris was being completely dominated, his body tingling with the want and lack of oxygen; leaning forward over himself until the sniper was basically crouched on the ground, hugging his own stomach as electric bolts scored divides in the grass around him and black scorches on his arms. Feeling that sensation in Piers' mouth, it was beyond words. He could feel the electricity from his body flood out and emitted going through his body into Chris; and the pleasure he felt from it was uplifting. Piers' electricity was still dancing in his body it was completely overtaken by the rush of his blood stirring through that younger lithe body and the aftershocks he was currently feeling were enough to take him to his knees. Chris could see it, continued emit electricity and the focus on his stomach and pores.

Chris lowered himself to Piers level as he continued to emit electricity and his pheromones were running amok. 'My Piers, so beautiful…MINE!' He grabbed him without restraint and gave him a deep kiss while sending as much love and passion as he could through his bond with Piers, uncertain of nothing he felt for the man who continually was plagued to battle his own virus when Chris' made him so whole. Feeling him there in agony, he released the kiss and tipped their foreheads together, stroking Piers' temple with splayed fingers, he smiled letting him take it in. He wanted him in so many ways, mind and body, and yet there was the one he wanted, always suffering.

The feeling of having Chris' hands on his hips, peeling away the fabric. The shocks racking his body made every pore feel like he was on fire, and the rough denim only caused him to groan. Shifting in his own skin with those war-hardened calloused hands running over his flesh. Dexterous fingers clenched tight the skin on his right arm almost splitting as the mutation threatened to rear its ugly head, putting his head back and gritting his teeth. Fucking hell, Chris felt so good, and everything he wanted from him was no different from before, but the surges of fire in the pits of his stomach was distracting to no end, enough so that his arms wrapped around his chest, clutching and tearing with his own fingers at the skin of his right arm. He didn't know if it was because Chris was now infected, but he'd never had such a problem calming the shocks that drove his mind to white blank pain, now he could hardly feel or see a thing but pain, hugging his damaged appendage, cradling it even as he sank his own nails into the flesh, blood seeping from it. Accepting it or not, Piers' C-virus had never been compatible with his mind, and they were completely opposed. It wanted to give him pain, and succeeded as it scorched marks along the olive skin that blackened char by the electricity that arched off his skin.

It was plain to see that Piers was in a mix of pleasure and pain due to the virus and it seemed that it would always be this way for his lover. The mutated C-Virus was finished with what it set out to do with Piers and it wanted nothing more than to ravage his body to its core. 'Oh my Piers. I can feel your pain, your pleasure. You want so much and I will give it to you.' Piers' C-Virus would always give him a degree of pleasure and pain due to the way it bonded with him. Before he had been infected, Piers had always shown no fear in the eyes of pain. He had never been fully avert to it and could handle it in great deals. There were rumors before on their team in Alpha that Piers had a propensity for pain, but that was also associated with being Chris' partner. Someone who teams up with Captain Redfield has to be a masochist! At least that had been Walker's line. Little did they know the truth of that statement. Chris could feel that from his Piers, it melded with pleasure so cruelly that he was mixed with the two without separation; and it made him more determined to give his sweet Piers release from it.

The scoring on Piers' arm was blinding caused by his own hands it was causing every muscle in that lean frame to curl in around himself, Chris' voice near mute in the back of his mind. He wanted to see this? Wanted to give him, what exactly? It was excruciating, feeling the skin peeling away and the bone inside his arm almost shattered. Sinewy muscle darkened a burgundy hue as the infected flesh pulsated all the way down his arm. Nimble fingers which knew a trigger like a lover cracked and stretched, elongating until they became a different consistency altogether. Piers often took pain in stride, but this biological transformation was blinding. Soon, his arm grew until the C-Virus took full effect. Where hands and fingers once were now resembled tentacled claws, a nightmare straight out of the mind of H.R. Giger. Smooth flesh beneath his expressive right ocular cracked with an electrical burn, the scar opening anew. That face which Chris had considered beautiful was being mutilated by the very same virus he was expected to embrace. Where was the beauty in it? Where was the betterment in this conversion? Holding it back may have hurt more, but it did better for his soul not to be reminded that the monsters he fought every day, that he had become one with.

Chris beheld his Piers transform into that beautiful form that he loved and instantly their opinions drifted apart. When he first saw Piers' mutated form, he was shocked that Piers would go so far to save his life. He could not believe that Piers would sacrifice his humanity for him. Once both men made it back to the United States, he saw Piers in that form again as he was suffering from the effects of the mutated C-Virus. Chris saw his true form again and was not horrified by it, if anything; he felt that Piers still looked as good as the day he laid eyes on him. Most people would think that Piers was hideous and Piers himself felt that way it was evident, but to Chris, he was still perfect. When Chris got infected with the mutated C-Virus, his feelings for Piers magnified greatly. No matter what form Piers took, he would always be the most beautiful creature in the world to the ex-bioterrorist. When Chris rescued Piers from the B.S.A.A. Quarantine Facility, he saw Piers in his true form. Seeing him like that made Chris feel amazing. Yes, at the time this was happening, both men had to escape. Seeing Piers in his true form had another effect on Chris: It resonated with Chris on a mental and physical level. "Piers…you are so _beautiful_," Chris said as he placed a hand on Piers' face, grimacing in pain. "Others may call you a monster, but you are _my_ monster Piers. I love the way you look, no matter what form you have. I love you, Piers. Feel my love for you," Chris told his lover as his crimson hued eyes glowed brightly and he kissed Piers with passion. He sent his feelings over their bond and hoped that Piers would feel them, find that place passed the voices and pain where their minds melted together.

Piers all but fell into Chris, his body shaking as blood slipped out from the gash in his face. But it was far from embrace. The younger man felt everything for Chris. He loved Chris for who he was, what he was, but it killed him knowing that everything Chris had fought against, everything he stood for, wanted him to be this way. This arm, if you could call it that, this mutated appendage that pulsed viciously and sent wave after wave of pain coursing through his body and up his spine where the ribs had been broken and torn from their frame by the mutation. How could Chris love that? How could he ever be the person he had trained vigorously to be, studied and brutalized himself to become so that he was good enough to stand by the great Chris Redfield's side, and feel as though he belonged, how could he be that person again? _He couldn't_. His being was mutilated, and without thinking on it he shoved away, throwing Chris' body back with the force in his only functional arm and a wave of energy, turning away from him. "Beautiful Chris? Really? This is beautiful to you? After everything we fought to achieve, you want to tell me, some freak fucking accident... a conscious choice to turn into this over seeing you die, was how I wanted to be? I tried to save you, not myself. You dragged me out of there; I never wanted to be... this is not beautiful. I _ruined_ you."

Chris took a look at his Piers as he got up from his place on the ground. He could feel sadness radiating from his Piers. He could feel that Piers did not understand why Chris was so willing to throw his old life away and become the very thing he fought against for over half of his life. He had to make Piers understand that there was no way he could go back to his old life. His mentality and physicality had permanently changed due to the mutated C-Virus. When he was knocked out during his house arrest, the mutated C-Virus changed him. Piers' safety and love was always at the forefront of Chris' mind, so the virus simply amplified those feelings for Piers and minimized his feelings for everything else. In other words, no matter what, Piers would _always_ be Chris' main priority in life and nothing else. If the world burned around them, as long as Piers was safe, he would not care. If others tried to hurt his Piers, he would eliminate them. All that mattered to Chris was Piers and nothing else.

Chris walked to Piers and knelt down in front of him, placed his hands on Piers' face and closed his eyes. He knew he was empathic towards Piers and that the tawny haired damaged soul before him could now 'hear' him on some personal level; so he was going to concentrate and send all of these emotions through that bond to his Piers. He wanted the sniper to feel everything he had been through in his life, to see those pains. He sent Piers all of his emotions with the details of his life. While he did that, he recounted each event verbally, stroking the side of that torn, bloodied face. "From the moment my parents died, to joining S.T.A.R.S., to nearly dying due to Wesker's betrayal. Rockfort Island, to Africa, to you joining my team in the B.S.A.A. To now." Chris narrated the feelings behind what his life had been up to this moment to Piers, hoping against his hopes and whispering softly in his ear as he heard the groan of pain from the place deep inside his partner. "And now, my feelings for you Piers," Chris said these words as he sent _all_ of his feelings towards Piers. Everything he had felt, everything that had happened between them, everything he felt before he was infected and after. Chris sent Piers every detail via their bond.

The flood of emotion that Chris swelled with, that he sent through his senses causing his chest to ache with every thought that he felt, and yet he saw the echoed distraction and upset behind those narrowed eyes as they came open. Silver and hazel leering at him with this fiery intensity that seemed to overtake his being. Piers didn't need to speak, he could feel the pain of it all, and in all honesty it sickened him. The muscle in his forearm flexed as his fist curled careening into that strong stubbled jaw of his Captain's and knocking him away almost clean off his balance. "Have some pride would you?!" In all his years of being with his Captain, Piers had never been decomposed enough to haul off and hit him. Obviously he needed it though. "Chris, do you even know why I joined the B.S.A.A.? Because it sure as hell wasn't some fucking ego trip." Anger flashed through the colored part of Piers' eye before a wave of energy took over him, gritting his teeth against it. "I heard about you as a kid. When I first look the job, I heard tales of you. Overcoming adversity with every fucking obstacle in your life. You were an icon, Chris, you were proof that anyone could rise up from nothing and make a difference in life. That was the man I served under in the S.O.U., the man I respected and emulated. You think I want _this_?" Disdain filled the tone of his voice as he gestured to the mutated arm which twitched with electrical current. "Forest Speyer was infected with the T-Virus at the Spencer Estate after being mutilated by a murder of crows, he had no choice but to embrace the virus, and you _shot_ him in the head for it. You shot your own close friend and agent of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha because he embraced a virus." Frustration hardened his boyish gaze as he delved into the past which Chris fed to him with psionics. No life was without hardship, particularly not his own.

"You think your sister would want to see you like this, Chris? You think Claire would want to see what the fuck you've become? You had immeasurable strength; you raised her to be an independent, good woman. You know what? You turned your back on the people that love you most. You've killed innocent people, and now you're hiding from the justice you once swore to uphold. You should be ashamed of yourself." His normal fist trembled with anger as the flare of electricity forming a double helix around his mutated appendage, shards of biological spikes protruding from the discolored shoulder. "I'm not beautiful. Not by a fucking long shot. I did this to myself for the B.S.A.A., for the sake of the world, and for you. I ruined my own life to save you from a bioweapon, and how do you repay me? You stand here in front of me now, proud to be a murderer, proud you killed those people, all to defend me. You're not Chris Redfield anymore. We're both accidents waiting to happen." It stung more to say those words than anything else he had ever had to confess to Chris. That including when Chris had started disregarding human life in an effort to capture Ada. It hurt, because he knew how he felt about himself, confessing it to Chris, broke him inside. "Chris you're telling me, making me feel, that I'm your world... you think that would make me feel good, but it doesn't. It makes me regret everything. I don't want to be the person that made you forget who you are. You might want to understand this virus... but I endured it. I don't have it because I wanted it; I have it because I wanted you to have everything you wanted. I wanted to be the person you loved... yeah. I always want to be that person. I spent my life happily at your side without ever having said a word to you about how I felt because I was part of this life of yours. Just being a part of the things you have done is more than I could have ever wanted." Salty tears burned in his eyes, but Piers refused to cry, biting the inside of his cheek as energy ripped through him, scoring the ground around them and causing him to crumple to his knees, knowing every breath from his chest like a knife. "But I wanted those things because of who you were. And now I'm the one that unmade you."

Chris was stunned to silence at the confession Piers made to him. Everything finally made sense to Chris. He finally understood why Piers felt the way he did, why he hated what they both became. It broke Chris' heart to see his Piers suffering like this and he knew what he was going to tell Piers was going to make things worse, but it had to be done. Forever, or the rest of eternity, Chris would never want to be the cause of Piers' suffering, but if he did not tell him what he knew now, they would never be able to move forward. Away from this, and the mental anguish that thrived inside his partner. If he had the chance to hide things, certain things, you do it for your country so that the world can heal painful hurts, even if it meant hiding others. Those hurts were becoming the broken, pulsing, scored flesh of his partner now, and with him this way, it was time to make the confession he had never truly wanted to make. "Piers, I never wanted to make you upset. I know you have given up so much for me, for the B.S.A.A., and the world, but there is something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you long before now. But it was always for the greater good. The so called greater good that only now I can really see was so wrong. You want to know why it was so easy to do what I have done so far? You say I killed innocent people? Yes, those guards who were outside my home at H.Q. were innocent. I will admit to that, but those people at the Quarantine Facility were as guilty as it gets. In fact, the list of those who are truly guilty are more than you can imagine," Chris forced himself to stand proper, his full stature that still imposing force to the one of his partner clutching to the damage of his own persona and lifted his head to look at his Captain. "Piers…the B.S.A.A…it was bullshit. Its fucking lie. Jill and I founded the B.S.A.A. with the purpose to defend the world against bioterrorism. Well, in order to do what we did, we had to get support from the U.N. along with other sources," Chris stated. "I am aware that you knew that much, but here is something you don't know and something I only found out recently. Piers, the B.S.A.A. were collecting virus samples for the purpose of recreating functional bioweapons they could control. In other words, they wanted to make another Albert Wesker, but one under their control. The only reason I know of this is because before I was fully sedated at H.Q., I could hear what the Generals were discussing. They were going to dissect you, Piers. They wanted to recreate the effects of the mutated C-Virus," Chris tried not to wince at Piers; who was looking more and more disgusted with every word.

"And if you had let me finish what I was doing, you would know this. I was planning to leave the B.S.A.A. Take you with me, after they tried to take you from me the first time. I knew something was wrong because they were so insistent, but with everything that was going on, I did not put more thought into it. I did some digging and found out about the people who were at the top of the B.S.A.A. and found out they were no better those who ran Umbrella. The B.S.A.A. was just being used for their goals. Before I could give my resignation and then take you away, those bastards sent me out of the country and they made their move. They were always gunning for you, from the moment you joined up to the moment that you became infected. Before I was deployed to South America, I was told that if you didn't go into Quarantine that they would take you. I had to convince you to go or else they would do it," Chris told Piers. "In other words Piers, everything was set up and we were used." Chris confessed to Piers, went back to Piers, put his hands on his face again, and finished what he set out to do before Piers broke the contact. The truth always hurt and when he realized it, he knew nothing would ever be the same. When Chris was driving to the Quarantine Facility to rescue Piers, he knew that he might have to fight against the people he cared about, but Piers meant more to him than anyone or anything else. Knowing that everything he did for the B.S.A.A. only benefited those who wanted to create and control bioweapons pissed him off to end. "How do you think I feel Piers? I helped create the B.S.A.A. for the good of the world, but soldiers like me do not run things, others at the top do. How do you think I feel knowing that I recruited people, led them, fought alongside them, and even had to bury them for the sake of a war that was created for the sole benefit of creating B.O.W.'s so that some people can have control over?"

Those hands on his face were a swift reminder of how real this all was. Chris was standing here, after all was said and done, he was there. His body was aching, in overwhelming pain and here was Chris telling him his entire dream in life was basically a sham. One that hit him to the core. He literally decided to kill himself to save Chris, for the B.S.A.A... Everything he'd done. No, not everything. All those places he'd gone and made better alongside his Captain, they were still good things. But it was disheartening, destructive. His cause was lost, and Piers Nivans if anything, was the cause. "You...," he was staggering, "you can't do this, Captain. Don't..., if that is what they are like.., if that is who they are..." Silence overcame them in this wide open field, this place of solitude gone awry, and Piers' voice cracked under the pain but more over the pressure of feeling his dreams crumble beneath his feet. There was duct tape, trying rigorously to hold it up, scrapping the pieces together to form a misaligned picture, but it was deathly. A hope of a young man gone, but just that fast he rebounded, staring into those darker brown eyes that were there beside him, for him, and a man like that didn't let this shit go to waste. When tenor woke the air again it was stronger, corruption gone and collected into that bravado and courage only Piers seemed to muster. "You can't become like them, just to avoid letting them have what it was they struggled for. You have to be the better person Chris. Jill Valentine, you, everyone you appointed into position to make certain this kind of thing didn't happen, those people are still there. You can't just abandon hope." Hope was all Piers ever had in life, he wasn't throwing it away now. He lived day one on hope ever since he left his hell hole of a life and joined up with the army. "The good things aren't less good because we did them for corrupt bureaucrats. Just makes it more damning for them." Swallowing back his rage at the idea of Chris' betrayal of his own company, he ran his fingers of his good hand through his own hair, looking away and toward the house, the mutation of an appendage throbbing once more before he closed his eyes, set on concentrating his pain away and settling his heart rate. "Captain... you can't leave all those people. Or those you cared about. Jill, Claire, everyone else. Alpha Team. Those are all good people. Those people will pay. Its time to get your shit together."

"My shit is together Piers," Chris said. "This has been going on for a long time and only now can I finally see with clarity about everything. I know what is going to happen and we will have to deal with it. I know what all of the protocols due to my former position and since those bastards had you in custody; they will do anything to get you back. They may even send Jill and Claire if we aren't found soon, but I will not let anyone take you back so you can be their experiment! I love my sister and I love Jill. They mean a lot to me, but my love for you eclipses anything else! I won't let it happen, Piers. I will not let those bastards have you! I did what I did with no regrets, NONE!" Chris's snake-like eyes glowed crimson as he said this to his Piers. He knew Piers was angry, confused, sad…he could feel those things from Piers, even as the sniper couldn't quite himself in the shock he'd been hurtled into. To know that your life, everything you have been doing, was all a sham is enough to break even the strongest of people. Chris refused to let it break him. He has been broken before and he knew what it felt like to feel like there was no hope. Chris would be Piers' hope; he would be everything to his Piers. "I am here for you, Piers. I will always be here for you."


	6. Chapter 6

Piers let the kiss happen, he was in shock. About as much as a man that had the inconvenient truth of his life's pursuit being stolen out from underneath his fingertips. Not just stolen. His Captain had stepped up to him and torn them from his hands and ground his heel into them before spitting on the last shred of dignity he had left. Walk away from everything they fought for? Walk away and don't turn back? He had quite literally become the reaper for Chris, and while he wouldn't turn back time to undo it, it didn't mean he wouldn't fight to protect the person he still was. But here, now, all this was done. His life as he had ever known it was over, was it not? But then... if he accepted that, he wouldn't be the man he was. Chris admired him from the beginning of their partnership for his tenacity, when they'd first partnered together he'd made an impression because Piers didn't back down from a challenge. He never did. He followed orders as a soldier but he knew right and wrong and he followed the letter of the law. The kiss was shallow, his mismatched eyes transfixed on the horizon, staring off into the distance, unmoving until his one hand rested on Chris' sculpted hip, just over the muscled 'V.' It may have felt like an intimate gesture, however it wasn't, it was the exact opposite of that. Piers was holding them back from one another, so that though Chris had kissed him, he wasn't exactly pleased with this state of acceptance his captain had taken in. At the realization, Piers pulled away, staring into reddened oculars that wouldn't greet his own until he refused the action again and Piers took his shoulder and shook him, forcing his attention. "You can't let them. Everything you lived and worked for Chris. You can't just give in. We'll fight. I've been by your side since the day I joined the S.O.U., you recruited me. I saw a world that you showed me, one where all this had an end. I won't walk away from it just because they lost vision."

Hearing Piers' words the way he spoke with such conviction, that was the man he'd come to love, but he couldn't help how his expression read as he looked at his partner. He just wanted to get away from this all and never look back. All of the betrayals, the lies, the pain…he just wanted to get away and take his Piers with him. Was it so wrong of a man who'd been in the shit for so long to ask for an out now that he had one? All he cared about was taking care of Piers and being happy with him, but what he wanted, was _not_ what his Piers appeared to want. His Piers wanted to fight, he wanted to fight the corrupt system and fix it. He wanted to make things right no matter how long it took. How was it that this kid had so much fight in him after everything he'd seen. The doctors and scientists at B.S.A.A.'s Quarantine facility tried to take him apart while still alive, shred his skin and kill him. Yet here was his boy, refusing to turn back. Such a fighter. Chris showed Piers everything: His mind, body, and soul…and Piers refused to accept that they should just step away and allow life to takes its course for those around them. All Chris wanted was for his Piers to be happy, to protect him from harm, but running away from everything would not be the answer. Not if he wanted to keep those things, not with that look in his partner's eye that said there should have been more. Chris' narrowed eyes were still burning crimson as he gazed at Piers. He could feel chaotic emotions from him, but there were two things that stood out the most: His unwavering conviction and his love for Chris. It was clear what had to be done. He might have wanted to run away from the world, but there was no running. They would be hunted forever no matter what the case was so why not save it. He knew that kind of passion, to right the wrongs. That kind of strength that his partner carried, the kind he once had, it stemmed from something and suddenly there was the yearning to know. He had to know what it was that moved him on so uncaring of his own safety for this hell hole they'd created.

"Piers, show me. Show me your life…show me your feelings, show me everything. Show my why..."

Chris' calloused fingertips, pads that knew a trigger too well stroked the side of his face, holding him close so the younger man couldn't pull away from him. Feeling his captain's lips retreat from his own made Piers' head spin, taking in a deep breath that filled his cracked and damaged lungs as they slowly began the process of re-healing. The tissue burned taking the breath, but it felt good feeling a weight lifted from him. Not the one of their impending trials ahead, not the suffering in his mind at having his only good acts being for the likes of those who wished to quash them, but that his Captain had been lost. And now Chris was back. That understanding nature, the one he knew was there, the one he knew was empathic not just toward him, but for others. It was a start. He knew just from the feelings in Chris' heart that this wasn't what he wanted, but back in Edonia it hadn't been what he wanted to do there either, but Piers had pulled him through hell to retrieve his soul, and he'd do it again if need be. There was a freedom in knowing that the man who'd raised him through the ranks and taught him to strive for greatness. Liberaion knowing he hadn't lost that man completely. That was until he heard the his request, the words 'show me your life,' that brought bile to his throat. The thoughts of taking something that could be good and turning it into something horrible because of his own restricted past.

Instantly Piers put his mouth was on him. It was the only thing he could think of to fight back the feeling of horror that flashed over his features, and flood it with any other feeling at all. Chris' mouth easily stopped him from thinking anything but the heat and warmth of the body holding his face. The things in his throat stirred and caused him to groan, but he ignored them, the tendrils slipping up and licking over Chris' lower lip before Piers pulled away, turning his head as they sought for the contact of the larger frame that held him there. He wanted to think of better things, better times, not look back on the one's he'd turned his back on. Chris' ideals, his life, the one he'd spent four years getting to know, those were what mattered. Even if his captain thought that he should come first. "Captain, I don't... I can't. Not that, we'll talk about anything but that. I will spend my life by your side, fighting your beside you. Fighting our battles and trying to defend those who need it, but not that. This isn't about me, its about you." His mind threatened at betraying him, wanting so badly to repress those forsaken things. Fingers found his chest, dropping his head to Chris' shoulder so he wouldn't have to look him in the eye by begging like that. Chris had a right to know, his files when he was introduced in to the B.S.A.A. were squeaky, _spotless_. But that was because his work in the Black Ops had everything under wraps. All the details were blacked out. And before that? With his face nuzzled into Chris' neck, the slightest hint of them causing him to shake his head, biting into Chris' neck, and threatening that slit in the junction of his neck just to draw attention away, just to hide himself away again. Those things wouldn't be in his file. Thank God. Even if there would be no hiding how it made him feel.

Chris could tell that Piers was trying to distract him. He could feel pure terror from Piers when he asked about his past. He wanted to know more about his Piers' life. It wasn't fair to go on this hunt for the truth when he in fact knew nothing about the younger soldier in his arms apart form his passion and strength in the field. Or how willingly he threw himself in to battle under those morals and pretenses bestowed on him from Chris. It was impossible to think that there was nothing that would have drawn Piers to him in the first place, and before he came to the B.S.A.A. because his files were totally clean… no one was like that. Still though, he could feel that it terrified his Piers to say anything about his past, so he let it go for now. He knew that in time, he would know everything about his Piers due to his bond with him. Piers would not be able to hide his past for long and Chris could wait. He could feel Piers bite into the side of his neck and Chris was tempted to open the slit there and let his "mouth" out, but he grabbed Piers' by the back of his head to look at him. Piers knew the truth now, the ugly truth that has turned their lives upside down, but he wanted to fight. He wanted to fight against the evil and injustice in the world. Piers refused to give in and give up. Chris just wanted to get away from it all. He thought he did his part in saving the world, but it seemed that the battles would continue. To be honest, he wouldn't give a damn about the blood that would be spilled and the amount of people he would have to kill. Such things did not bother him anymore due to the inhibitions stolen by the virus. That was something that would not change and Piers would need to understand that, however if this was his want... its what they would do. "You still want to fight? After everything they've done to you, to us? All I want is your happiness, but if this is what you want, then I will be with you in this, Piers. It will be a very hard road. There will be no turning back. We will be going to war, Piers. It will be long, bloody, and a lot of people are going to die. The corruption is deeper than you realize. There will be things we will have to do that you will not like, Piers. But, if this is what you want, if you truly _want_ this…then I am with you soldier. I am with you," He wanted his partner to know that he was with him in this. If this was what Piers wanted, then he would have it!  
Chris gave Piers a short kiss to his mouth before he allowed him to slip back to the slit on his throat. He opened the slit and let Piers kiss his "mouth" there since he'd seemed so drawn to it himself, even if it was out of a want to hide himself away, Chris would permit it.

The tendrils in Piers mouth slipped into the slit in Chris' neck, teasing at the tissue, and laving against the insides of it, clinging to him viciously. There was a point where he tried to pull away, but those spiraled 'tongues' refused to give in to his wants, clinging and licking, seeking purchase. Piers groaned, closing his eyes as he finally pulled back enough that they relinquished their hold, slipping over his pouted lips and wetting them, a slight smile threatening the corners of his lips as they tried to demand and urge him back to tasting Chris' flesh. "I..." a hand flew up as he coughed into a fist, fighting for the dominance of his own mouth. "I... can't turn my back on all those people. Alpha Team, your sister, old partners, all the men that died." His voice dropped off; trying to push away feelings he'd long thrown away. Piers never spoke about his past for good reasons and he never introduced friends or talked about family because he had separated himself intentionally from it. Just having Chris ask about it reminded him that everything he always said avoided it. When they spoke, it was about Chris' family, his friends, never anyone that Piers knew. "This fight isn't for me, Captain. If you aren't ready for it, I won't make you fight this battles. I know what I'm up against; it won't be the first time I've been in over my head."

Chris looked at his Piers and was amused that he would even consider going into battle without his Captain. He was like a boat without a rudder this one, when he didn't have someone telling him what to do. But then he was a soldier, and Chris was a captain, they fit one another perfectly. It was the kind of comedic thing of seeing a five year old on a leash in the mall. Always so headstrong even without there being a need to be. "Piers, I am always ready. I told you what I did because I wanted to be damned sure _you_ were prepared to deal with what is going to happen, not me. This is going to be a very hard fight and it will be for keeps. On top of that...," A bushy brow raised at the heavy lidded sniper, annoyance proof of how he felt. Chris was baing Piers as his eyes flashed crimson prodding his pride with a harpoon sized stick. "You honestly think soldier, that I'm going let you go out there alone?" He grabbed Piers and kissed him passionately even despite the insult of having his own A.T.L. attempt to undermine him. Chris may have changed greatly due to this mutated C-Virus, but the one thing about Chris that would never change: His devotion to his partner. He would never let Piers go off alone into such a war, not in perfect health, or bruised and broken like he was now. If he wants to fix what is broken, then Chris would be there to help him. They would do everything possible to fix this corruption, no matter what.

Chris' suggestion that Piers couldn't go into war alone did give rise to a scoff, watching pouted lips still curled in a smile before the younger man stepped back, l quirking into a rather amused look. Naked, outside in the middle of no man's land and this man's sniper had basically cried on his Captain's shoulder. The most unflattering thing Piers could think of concerning the two of them. He was a strong man, one who had fought countless battles alongside vicious soldiers, and war hardened specialists like himself. He felt like a child standing here this way and instead of ruing it, he slipped away, admiring their situation as uncomfortable as it was. "Let's go in Captain. Please?" He felt the flesh of his arm converting the pulsing mutated flesh all but returned to its naturally hidden state, the new skin cool and slick as he ran his thumb over each finger, the tingling freshness of the tissue making goosebumps rise over his skin. This conversation wasn't one he wanted to share with the outside, and he wasn't ready for anything Chris wanted. That man never needed to know the things Piers had done, or otherwise what had happened to him. All he needed was the rifle upstairs that he touched like a lover, and his Captain that fell in step with him easily enough as electric and heart rates subsided, calm coming over his always tight knit features.

Chris followed his partner's form inside and smirked as he noted Piers attempt to hide from the cold. Observed Piers' arm shift back to 'normal' and he felt a mild disappointment in the unwillingness to accept their situation. Chris genuinely liked the way that arm looked, certainly it was shocking to see at first, however, now? He always was honest with Piers when he divulged finding him to be beautiful. It would have been an understatement to claim either was a very good at lying, so being truthful was easier for them. He knew the room they were in upstairs was a bit damaged, but both men could still sleep in it, and Piers led them straight to it from the out of doors. The bed in the room was ruined, but Chris had an idea. Telling Piers to wait while he went in search of linens. Grabbed some blankets and a pillow from the closet, and setting them on the floor. Before coming out again to call in the uncomfortable sniper, even as spotted him as he slipped calloused fingertips over the fresh tissue that coated that appendage, joining the captain within the confines of the room. It was clear that Piers was cold after their exploit and Chris was the human torch. Spontaneity took control; gripping the younger man round the waist in an effort to warm his Piers up. Before the mutation, Chris was always warmer than average human beings, so other people thought of him as a furnace. Hence after the mutation, Chris was able to adjust his internal body temperature with a strange ease, so he used that new perk now to warm up his body to stave off such cold from that leaner form. Having total control of your body does have its perks. With his arms about the sniper, rough hands manipulated him without warning; sat down, and put Piers straddled in his lap. "Still cold Piers?" Chris asked with smugness.

Piers felt heat rush to his face, pursing his lips as the rest of him heated, in a full body blush from being moved around by his Captain. Weak and completely deflated after having his dreams trampled and his purpose lost, but he still managed to feel excited by everything Chris did. It was so damn messed up. Piers never knew what he wanted, just something that came with the territory of constantly being on the move. Being on leave, without a gun in hand and Piers forgot himself completely. His mind reverted back to civilian life, the stuff he avoided like the plague. He never left the field and lived happily doing it. Stopping for any amount of time made his whole body into a wreck. "No...not cold Captain." It was probably why Piers never stopped calling Chris his Captain. It made more sense that way. They only worked because Piers kept work and civilian life to extreme opposite ends. Sitting on him was just making red rush to his face and reminding him how much like a kid he felt, forced to sit in Daddy's lap for being such a pain all the time. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek trying not to look so completely out of place. Every time they were like this... intimate in any way, he always felt like a freshman in high school sitting in his teacher's lap. Though thinking back on high school, the images of those same days flashed through his head with a chuckle. No friends, sure he avoided people even then, his personal space was off limits to everyone and even to Chris, who refused to accept that at times and invaded it without permission from time to time. But, he still used to have his share of fun. Stole a car once. He chuckled before shaking his head, reminded quickly when he felt those hands on him again that he was still perched on his Captain, bringing another flush of red to youthful tan features.

'Interesting...' Those few seconds of nostalgia, caught a few flashes of memory and emotion from Piers, and cast them through that tentative link. 'He has been through a lot. I still don't know everything, but even what I just felt was a bit of his past.' Chris tightened his hold on Piers, not enough to make him uncomfortable, but enough to keep him secure in his arms. Both men went through a lot tonight, many ups and downs, and when Chris thought about punching the tree Piers was perched in, he laughed. If this was such as the life they were living now, he could only imagine what life it was that the this other man lived before they had met. He couldn't help but laugh about that ridiculous tree. Chris saw Piers look at him and he could tell that Piers was wondering what exactly he was laughing about considering their situation. Without consideration of that personal space, fingers ruffed through shorter, flipped up bangs; tipping his body forward to place a single kiss on those pillowed lips. "I was thinking about punching the tree you were perched in tonight. Now that I think about it, it was pretty damned funny," Chris chuckled.

The younger man instantly laughed into the back of his hand, nodding happily. "You should have seen your face... You actually punched a tree to death, Captain." He was damn near almost giggling, resting his palms on that broad expanse of chest, admiring scarred and damaged skin very briefly before nodding at Chris' lap, his eyebrows quirked up, "How much longer am I in time out, Captain?" He meant how long Chris was going to hold him to sit in his Captain's lap, but the reference made him snicker anyway. Virus or not, Chris had always been and always would be more experienced and much older. The school boy references came naturally considering Chris treated him like he was five sometimes when he wouldn't listen properly. The warmth that transferred through his body into his thighs that were straddled over his Captain's lap were making him suddenly aware of how precarious their position was, the longer the captain stared at him with that foreboding amusement. It caused hands to pull away from those strongly muscled pectorals and crossing them over his own chest, staring up at the ceiling and hoping to forget how embarrassed he was sitting in Chris' lap. So completely unsoldierlike...

"Well, you have been a _very_ bad boy, Piers," Chris told Piers with that hint of sarcasm. "That poor tree would still be standing if you didn't climb it like a cat." Piers looked at his Captain in surprise as Chris' eyes glowed a sort crimson fire. "I never said that you could stop touching me." Chris grabbed the back of Piers' head before he could pull away like the squirrel he was, and caught his mouth a kiss, parting his lips at the instant demand for access from the sniper who took his lead for the first time that night. He could feel Piers' tongue, helixed with tendrils in his mouth and the small sparks of electricity slipping between their bodies. 'I want him…' He could clearly see the flush spreading over that younger body in his arms as the older man fought with Piers' virus for dominance. Hands immediately flying up to wrap around Chris' neck, carding fingers through his hair not bothering to fight the tendrils that were trying to wrap and urge Chris' tongue deep into is partner's mouth, the other slipping into the warm wet cave of his mouth and searching for purchase, pushing to the back of his throat. Blush covered smooth cheeks at the Captain's rasped words. 'Bad boy.' Chris always liked reminding him what a boy he was by comparison. In all actuality, he was more childlike than most hardened B.S.A.A. agents had a right to be with something against the world. He was more or less led around on a collar of blind faith, and Chris was always going to be 13 years older, and always would be the more experienced man. That figure he always looked for in his life, despite how lip locked they were and the way that he couldn't even jerk his head back with how badly those things in his mouth wanted something to suck. They always did, tormenting his own tongue sometimes just because they were always eager to please. Of course, he was always eager with Chris, everything he did was to please his Captain, never failed to rise to the occasion in the field. On top of that, it sent lava through his body hearing Chris call him bad. No doubt the reason for the words now to come floating form his mouth.

Chris was so turned on right now. The pheromones Piers were emitting were causing his already teased body to react. Piers always had that effect on him, and now with the viruses both men have, their feelings for each other were magnified. Still, his Piers has been a very bad boy causing all the trouble he had; and he needed to be punished. Chris pulled his mouth away from Piers and he heard his Piers whine as the tendrils were still between his lips, seeking him. "Piers, you have been a _very_ bad boy. All this fighting. Going to the quarantine facility. Submitting yourself to those people. You are damn lucky your captain came for you, no lay across my lap, now!" Chris commanded. Hazel and silver mismatched oculars landed on Chris' face, judging him. Breaths heavy in Piers' chest bated as he nodded eagerly, swallowing against the tightness in his throat and the pheromones that made his head spin, slipping out of Chris' lap, suddenly aware of how tight his jeans were just looking at Chris had hearing him play with those words he enjoyed so much of. The command made him suck in a breath, lying across his lap tentatively, hands clutching the taut bulged muscles of Chris' massive thighs as he climbed over his lap, hiding his face in the nook of his arms. Twenty-six and his Captain still treated him like this. But it made him feel sexy having Chris that driven by him, feeling the head of his captain's obvious erection nudging against his abdominal muscles.

"You have been so, so bad Piers," he said hands slid flat against his hips, passed the hem of taut fabric, pulling them off with one sweep of his hands until Pier's thighs were trapped by the material, placing his hands on Piers' bare ass. Chris gave a rub to one round cheek, admiring just before a jerk of that bulged forearm pulled back as he spanked Piers' right side; hard enough to make the olive skin go red and he could hear Piers yelp. Chris rubbed the area where a hand-print was starting to show, raised in a welt, serving to turn him on all the more with his sniper being branded. Another spank and this time to the left side, feeling fingers on his legs grip harder as Piers gasped in. Each time Chris spanked Piers the marks rose redder, giving him all the sharp intakes of breath and yelps of pain that went straight to pool in Chris' groin; Piers' pheromones driving him crazy. He could hear Piers moan with each spank he did, short lived and hidden when electric jumped into his hand as he struck. After seeing both sides turn a bright red, Chris couldn't help slip his fingers between those round cheeks, brushing his fingertips just over that ring of puckered flesh, smirking when he heard Piers make that tiny whimper he tried to hide when calloused pads, teased that hole. They were rough with one another, it was the only way they were. Piers was a soldier, he didn't like soft, and Chris loved man handling him this way, pushing all his buttons until he could feel the way his body tensed at his fingertips; twitching and it made him mad with lust. Chris opened the slit on his neck and put some of the fingers of his right hand in it letting them slick them. Hearing that breathy moan, the way Piers' said 'captain' shifting against his lap; he made them very wet just before sliding those finger back to that place he tempted himself with, hearing another tentative question of his rank alone before pushing that one finger in Piers' hole, shutting up his concern with a groan of pain that ripped through him.

It tore through Piers' throat feeling Chris' moist digit shoving deep inside him, clenching his hands into fists and hoping to muffle his moans in the crook of his elbow. "Captain...," his tenor voice hitched feeling that finger probing inside him, the red flesh marred from the spanking he endured, beat red and warm. His chest ached as that finger pushed deep enough he could feel that rough palm against him, pulses of electricity surging over his body in dull waves, biting into his own arm at the feeling. "I was bad Captain... I'm sorry. Please, punish me." His voice was hoarse from the whimpering he was doing, the tendrils in his mouth slipping out and lapping at the blood on his arm where teeth had sunken in, enjoying the feeling despite it being his own blood, letting them wrap around his forearm. He loved Chris when he was like this, demanding. It was how he'd fallen for him. In the field it was always commanding, pushing him until they were nose to nose with Chris glowering until his sniper backed down. It made him shake then, more so now. He loved it; it was how Chris was with everything. But he wanted to enjoy all the little feelings; the electrical impulses coursing over him as that finger pumped in and out of him.

"Your punishment is not over yet solider," Chris added another finger in Piers' hole and began to stretch him. He could feel the electricity that Piers was emitting and it went straight into his body. If Piers was able to see his Captain, he would eyes glowing crimson with need. Chris could hear Piers' moans of pleasure and the pain as he continued to finger his a third dry finger was added, Piers cried out. Chris could feel Piers' pleasure, even as he scissored his fingers deep inside him and made that body twist with the pain of having him delving them deeper up that sweet entrance. Those feelings added to his own desire for Piers. Piers' was emitting more pheromones and electricity now and it drove Chris wild. It would have been an understatement saying Piers screamed, the electricity that sizzled and scored along his skin was slowly pulsing quicker until that third finger shoved inside of him, back arching even though he was across his Captain's lap, and openly gasping, hoarse voice lost as he pushed back against that hand thrusting fingers inside of him, stretching that tight ring of muscle until the younger man was pleading silently, gagging on the saliva in his mouth, secrete into that moist orifice by the tendrils that sought out some comfort from the pheromones seeping from his body, almost leaking out his pours, eyes rolled shut. They were making Chris' head light and everything spin, while Piers relished in the sweet pain that Chris was tormenting him with, penetrating him time and time again with those teasing rough pads that sent pulses of fire under his skin to pool in the snake coiled in his lower stomach.

"Please Captain. I can be a good boy." The words tumbled off those abused pouted lips, drool at the corner of his lip as he hid away his face to avoid the look he was certain to get for talking to his Captain that way.

"Piers, it's too late for that…_far_ too late. Running off that way. Everything I had to do for you to keep you safe." Chris growled as he continued to finger Piers' ass, curling his finger tips and making the younger man cry out. He wanted to fuck Piers, he had for most the night. The kid made him hard just by his presence alone but now he had to punish him. Now he deserved every pressing inch of his fingers driving him crazy as he penetrated him over and over again. He would make him beg for it. Chris' fingers hit what they sought causing an unexpected gasp of ecstasy, teasing that sweet place inside him. The electricity and pheromones increased as Chris deliberately pressured that place over and over again. He'd never done this for the sniper before, not this way, and Hell if it didn't turn him on watching the younger man writhing in his lap, unable to fight him as he brought him closer to the edge. "Not yet soldier, not until I say so." Chris continued to finger his Piers, orders flooding from his mouth with every thrust that took him deeper inside his boy. He could feel Piers getting closer, body constricting around those fingers he intentionally dragged slow and viciously against those warm velvet wall until he was appeased and pulled them from those sinful entrance, admiring how Piers gasped out wantonly. Chris could feel the need Piers had for him. And with his captain denying him, tracing his fingers over that sweet perfect ass of his, tortuously slow. "See soldier, you were so bad. I only know one way to truly punish you... Never listening to what you captain commands of you. I should have left you in that rotting hell hole." Obviously he never would have, but it was true, Piers had a choice and had gone there even after orders. It played hand in hand as Chris cooed cruelly in Piers' ear, knowing it only drew out what he really wanted. "You can only cum from me fucking you, Piers. Now beg for it. Beg for my cock."

Piers was all nothing of coherency anymore and instead was left, in Chris' lap, whimpering at the sudden absence of those fingers that had been abusing his prostate sending shuddering pleasure through his body that wracked him further with the sinful pain that jumped to his groin. His cock was straining from the effect Chris had on him, teasing his prostate until he was literally moaning for more, precum dripping from his slit as his Captain pulled away. "Captain, pleaseplease don't stop. I promise I'll be so good..." His words slid out with unbridled urgency, his own slick fingers drawing down the sweat on his own body and quickly finding his own erection and pumping his fist around himself, groaning so close to orgasm it hurt. The waves of static shock danced over his skin and between his fingers as he arched his back. Words to the contrary of his actions, as Chris commanded him further, amused as he observed his little display of complete lack of discipline. Pulling from across his captain's lap until he was kneeling on the ground. The younger man couldn't help but touch himself despite the orders he was given, Chris' words only served to build pressure behind his eyes as he tossed his head back against his shoulder blades, his free hand in his own hair and tugging back as his voice hitched, caught in his chest as slick cum coated his fingers, grimacing in pleasure, leaned back on his heels as he continued to rub his hard flesh, whimpering out curses as the sticky fluids that coat his fingers and stomach were smeared by his own hand, running them up his chest and moaning out as he traced the lines of his own body with his fluids clinging to his fingers until they came to his mouth, letting the tendrils in his mouth slip out enthusiastically cleaning his fingers as they lapped and stole the fluid from between his digits, stealing it hungrily as he groaned, his fingers still trapped in his own hair. "Fuck..." He never was good at following orders.

Seeing Piers jack off in front of him sent waves of arousal to Chris. He watched as his soldier defied orders yet again and continued to stroke his cock until he came in his hand. Then, those tendrils came out of Piers' mouth and licked clean the shameful fingers that had done his own dirty work. Chris was turned on, but Piers defied his orders, as always. 'Piers just can't be a good boy! He is mine and he belongs to me. Everything about him is mine.' Chris could feel Piers' pheromones and the electricity that blinded as he came and it sent him into overdrive. "You are always such a bad boy Piers. Filthy," Chris said, his eyes fiercely boring into the man gasping for air from his own actions. "That belonged to me, soldier." Chris gripped Piers and wrenched him over on top of the blankets on the floor, forcing his legs apart to settle between them. Chris' cock was hard and dripping with  
precum. He could see Piers glance between them; at his cock as it pushed against his gut and the tendrils came slipping free from his mouth, desperately seeking. Chris felt desire, want, intense need, and love…, but Piers had been bad. Chris got down on his knees in front of Piers and grabbed both of his legs, one placed over each of his massive shoulders. "Piers, bad boys don't get to suck Daddy's cock. They don't get to jack themselves off. And they don't get to cum." He could feel Piers' pheromones and electricity flowing into his body from the contact that scorched through the flush contact; as he lined his cock to Piers' ass. "You will learn Piers…you will learn that you belong to me forever! You are mine, Piers! MINE!" Chris drove home his point as he forced his cock passed that sweet ring and up into Piers' ass. Even though they'd only been together so rarely it seemed like never at time, neither man was delicate with the other, Chris practically folding his soldier in half as he sank into Piers hard, completely to the hilt, with that tight passage clenching around him from the agony of being filled so completely so fast.

Eyes glowing a fierce crimson as the captain drove his cock into Piers. His thoughts and feelings were single-minded; sent through their bond straight to the sniper as he cried out mutely in pain. 'You are mine Piers. Mine forever! You belong to me! You will always belong to _me_! I love you so much Piers, I will never let you go!' The force that Chris used to push into Piers made him groan completely unabashed, his hands immediately finding Chris' muscled broad shoulders, hulking over his body. His one hand digging in his nails hard enough into the slit in that amazingly thick neck, letting his Captain taste what remained on guilty fingers, though the little that remained was showed how hungry those tendrils truly were. "Chris, fuck!" There was no slow going with Chris. Their first time, yeah the Captain had done what he could to not just tear Piers' tight ass from that girth that lay between his legs, but even then they'd both broken down in an unadulterated fuck. Piers never was one for soft and gentle anyway. Chris gave him every pleasure and pain he ever wanted and knowing that his Captain wanted him so bad, he refused to let the agony that swept over him at how hard and fast the man thrust into that heated tight body show. They were men of action, fucking was the same way. There was no 'hold up and let me accommodate that huge cock'; it was 'give me everything as hard as you can until I'm screaming your name.' Which in its own was impressive since the younger Ace never called Chris by name in bed unless he couldn't help it.

That thick girth tore through his body and filled every sense he had, nothing but Chris' voice and his cock filling him. He could feel those seeking tendrils urging for something and shook his head, chewing on his lower lip as a wave of electricity encompassed them both, the pheromones in his system reaping havoc as Chris' thrusts came deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside him over and over, throbbing with every shove of hips to hips. His fingers probed that 'mouth' in his captain's muscled neck so recklessly as the other gripped him tight enough to dig the nails into his skin, terrorizing the muscle to bleed. "I'm sorry Captain. I didn't mean to, Orders are orders. I swear, I'll never... I... fuck... urggh, God you're so huge Captain..."

"Of course my cock is _huge_, Piers, I'm your _captain_." Chris snarled out arrogantly, making the young soldier under him grimace with ever word. Chris was usually not arrogant at all, but he had to prove a point to his bad boy about Daddy being in charge here. No more of this running off without sanctioned orders, and to hell with this doing everything on his own shit. Chris felt Piers put his fingers into the slit on his neck and he groaned in pleasure as the 'mouth' sucked the remains of Piers' cum from those sinful fingers before Piers pulled his fingers out. Chris was feeling an insane amount of pleasure he continued to bury himself deep against Piers' prostate with every thrust, feeling those tight muscles stretch and give to his size. The pheromones and electricity Piers emitted added to those feelings and Chris could not help but thrust into Piers a little harder every time,, listening to muffled silence from his partner. So well trained to keep quiet, it was intoxicating watching Piers fight to stay quiet every time his hips snapped forward and jammed him deep inside and filled his sniper's gut. As he fucked Piers, Chris could feelthose surges of electricity going into his body. It was so much that you could start to see a dark outline under Chris' skin, and it burned his flesh like paper. Chris' emotions were going haywire as it went on and he groaned in a nearly alien voice; hissing in the height of passion. He wanted to cum so badly, but he would make his Piers cum first, make him beg like he'd sworn he would.

The blankets were already getting askew from Piers' back being shoved against them, not to mention his hands clenching and unclenching in them when he finally dropped them from Chris' shoulders, all his weight in his shoulders. When the older man pulled him up, hands on his lower back, he slipped right over his Captain's muscled hips, those hands shoving Chris back until he was lying down, and Piers was riding that cock deep inside him. Sitting in his lap, grinding down on him, Piers could feel every inch that shoved deep inside his bowels. Gripping Chris' calloused hands and putting them on his hips, letting the captain guide his body as he fucked himself on Chris' thick girth. Self-control lost itself in a mix of pleasure and pain, Piers' erection bobbing between them, the skin of his arm splitting slightly at the loss of control, the electric scoring marks in his flesh that instantly tried healing itself even as clawed fingers mutated and mutilated Chris' shoulder that he held for leverage. Piers loved that arrogant one-sided nature his Captain had, it was there all the time, but it only showed itself so often. His lips fell agape as he gasped for air, eyes clenched shut as he rolled his hips again, hitting that spot on his own and his spare hand finding his own erection. "Please Captain."

Seeing Piers riding his cock as if his life depended on it was driving Chris wild that was clear. His hand slapped away in replacement for his captain's. His fingers being smacked away didn't bother Piers in the least, loving how rough the older man was with him and gripping his lean form hard as his own rough digits flew over his skin. "I will be the one to touch this cock, Piers. This is mine!" Chris voice was distorted. Clawed fingers continued to tear into that massive shoulder, showing no pain as Piers' continued to mutilate it. What could be seen was obsidian, a small shine to it. The "mouth" on Chris hissed even louder as he was ready to cum up that tight ass…, but Chris wouldn't let himself, not until he made his bad boy cum first. Chris drove his cock hard into Piers' ass and he heard Piers gasp at the force of it. The electricity Piers emitted drove into Chris' body with shocks that tore through his person and danced in his mouth as Piers leaned down to kiss him, shocks running over his tongue and into Chris as he finally relented himself to the pure ecstasy. As Piers came hard in Chris' hand, he made sure to get every drop of his Piers' cum and roared loud enough to jar the sniper as that body around him contracted with every wave of his orgasm; teasing him as came hard into Piers' tight ass. The sounds Chris made were not even remotely human as he came. As Chris rolled his hips, pushing his length through that slick body; he came down from his orgasmic high. He wondered if Piers would get freaked out at how his voice sounded, but he'd barely heard it himself as he pushed through his own orgasm, feeling the body around him sweet and coating his cock. Before freeing Piers from being pinned in place on his wait, he moved his cum-stained hand to the 'mouth' at his neck. The 'mouth' was still out to lick his sweet cum off of his hands. 'So good…it tastes so fucking good…my Piers, I could get addicted to your cum…'

The blinding behind his eyes was all that Piers could see, as he came hard in Chris' hand, gripping at his Captain's chest as the older man thrust deep into him, hard enough he felt his stomach curl at how well his Captain filled him. Everything was overly sensitive and after cumming from that cock making him its own personal fuck hole. He was on the verge of ecstasy itself and Chris felt overbearingly thick, every nerve on fire as he gasped and near collapsed on Chris' chest, his abdomen contracting and every muscle. The sound he made when Chris came was nothing compared to how it felt, warm semen filling him to the point where the young Ace dropped his head, falling forward, but refusing to move from his Captain's lap, rolling his hips with the last waves of orgasm that over took his Captain. The cool air on his sweat slick body was a reprieve, Piers tipping his head so that he could kiss his Captain's stubbled jaw as he grimaced in pleasure, absentmindedly clawing at the flesh of his shoulder. "...I didn't deserve that."

Chris' crimson eyes began to dim until they regained their red, lizard-like appearance. The 'mouth' on his neck was still out and hissing in contentment. Chris held onto his Piers as he came down from his orgasmic high along with feeling Piers' own. It would take some time for his body to settle down and Chris could feel Piers' claws removing the skin on his shoulder. Chris looked at his Piers while he was doing it and then took a look at his shoulder. He could see an obsidian 'skin' on the areas that Piers had clawed off during their sexual romp and since Piers was still clawing at the shoulder, more of the obsidian 'skin' was getting exposed. The skin on his shoulder would grow back eventually, but he wondered what Piers would think. It was clear Piers was riding the high, hi eyes fluttered shut, rocking ever so slightly as Chris continued to hold onto his Piers and spoke in a distorted voice, "I love you so much Piers. Course you deserved it," Chris chuckled to his sweet boy. "But Piers, there is something...,"amusement laced his tone, drawing a contented hum from the sniper. "Are you enjoying clawing at my shoulder?" Chris honestly wondered what Piers reaction would be and he did feel amused that his Piers was _still_ clawing at his shoulder. The 'mouth' on Chris' neck was hissing in amusement as well, though it was clear he hadn't been aware of it himself until Chris brought attention to the action. His fingers locking in place with blood coated claws, more barbed from the way his mutation had cursed his arm, casing their motion.

Piers didn't open his eyes, just stopped the trail of kisses he was lavishing on Chris, tipped his head to the side and ran his tongue over the obsidian 'skin' he hadn't acknowledged, humming in contentment at the taste despite blood and the slickness of the 'flesh' beneath. "Just afterglow.. I didn't mean to. Are you alright, Captain?" He winced slightly over the hissing of the 'mouth' in his shoulder, his normal hand coming up and caressing along the outside of it. Chris' voice was different to say the least and he knew the strange slickness of fresh skin beneath his shoulder because his own did the same whenever the mutation of his arm split the olive toned skin and replaced it with that pulsing tissue. The claws his fingers had managed to partially mutate to were slowly returning to normal, buthe had resumed peeling at the heated flesh with them until they had returned to normal, sucking on the fresh tissue. They were both mutated, there was no fear of anything otherwise and Chris ketp shifting his hips that way up into him. Were it normal skin, he would have left a mark, nuzzling at it. Piers knew full well he was a complete monster: His arm, the electricity, the pheromones that drove his body to insane distraction, so Chris' own transformation... he tried very hard to accept as his own. He hated himself, but Chris was his Captain, and he loved every part of him, including the strange flavor of his darkened dermis.

Each lick of his obsidian 'skin' felt completely foreign; and he loved the feeling of Piers' tongue on it. It was a unique feeling to him and he could feel as Piers' tendrils swept out getting a taste as well. The 'mouth' on his neck was hissing at Piers while Piers caressed it. Seeing his Piers at this moment made Chris feel content, more content that he had ever felt in his life so far. Being with his Piers, sharing an intense intimate moment with the man he loved more than anything, and now just being together in the afterglow made Chris feel wonderful. Without for once, his sniper's horror at his own body and mutations. He could feel everything that Piers was feeling and it magnified his own feelings. He was a monster now, something he used to fight against during most of his life, but he knew he would always be this way from now on. He loved the way he was; and being with his Piers…he would always be with him. Chris knew that the mutation changed him in every way possible and those changes were so he could protect and take care of _his_ Piers. He would never let his boy go and he wanted Piers to be happy, content. Chris knew that Piers hated himself, but he would show Piers all of the love and passion he could, even in such a time and place. He had shown and would always show his desire, love, obsession, and passion for his this man. Soldier and lover.

"Piers," distorted, Chris' voice said, "I love you, so...so much." Chris kissed his Piers while the 'mouth' on his neck hissed with delight.

Piers was almost unconscious as his fingers picked, catching at the place where the skin was still fused to itself and sighing out contentment. It was one thing Piers never asked Chris too say to him. When they first started all of this, the idea that they would love each other was almost foreign. He didn't expect Chris to ever say it. They were soldiers, and he was a grown man sleeping with his commanding officer. Saying those words seemed so out of place. Being empathic and having a bond with Piers meant that Chris already knew that Piers loved him and he did not have to say it…Chris felt it Still the way Chris hissed them out made his skin tingle, sealing his lips over obsidian and letting those tendrils lap and lick at the flesh beneath before finally pulling away, prying himself out of Chris' grip and practically falling off him as he rolled onto his back on the scrunched up blankets finally feeling the emptiness when he separated from his Captain, gasping in the air. He loved Chris, he did, but saying it out loud made his stomach hurt. There was too much behind those words and on the eve of something more devastating he had trouble even forming them. Once this was over, once they had collected themselves, slept, whatever the case would be, he'd have to turn back into his Captain's soldier, and he wasn't ready to say goodbye to this just yet. "Whatever happens Chris, don't forget what you just said."

* * *

**Hello again! As Always! Just wanted to throw out the props again. This is an RPG turned fanfiction and is edited from its original format into story style. Its a tad different than my usual, but that's the point of having two people writing one thing, it gives different perspective to my already well made points! All RE characters belong to Capcom, even if I kidnapped Piers. **

**SO!**

**Chris and his wily nature = Mmori and her wonderful grammar editing self! She is in charge of all the fun spell checks and grammar I tend to butcher while speed typing.**

**Piers and his roleplaying way of always turning sex into war! Is all me. As well as the edits tha turn this from RP into Fanfiction. Hope you all enjoyed.**

**Please let us know what you think so far as i'm an attention whore and can't help wanting to know! Please throw me a review or few so I can go crazy with love on you guys!**

**NEXT CHAPTER! The war begins!**


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning at B.S.A.A.'s H.Q., in relief for the four guards who had been taxed with surveillance and service of Captain Redfield's residence; another band of men came in, cleared to position over their predecessors. Shock settled in upon arrival. There had been concern over those who had not reported in however, the teams had been reporting in intervals that gave no rise for concern, in periods of every 6th hour. It wasn't until now that these men could have been made aware. There had been awe as to why captain Redfield was placed under house arrest by the top brass, but not a one came to question their orders, merely did as a good soldier would;they followed them. Silence was all the radio feed provided. Static that hissed, until they could hear the sounds of their replacement's walkies from their position, and yet heard no man on the recall, nor spotted them in position about the perimeter of the home. Closer in, as proper soldiers, they raised weapons, on full alert and calling back on the radio in hopes of getting a response form a man caught off guard to 'relieve' himself. However, to their chagrin, no man was seen. It was clear something was amiss; they noticed that something was wrong; no one could see any of the men who should be currently guarding the home upon a full perimeter sweep, nor movement was there seen inside the house. A second search of the area, 9-0-9, standard issues, raised high in alert. It was too quiet Clearly... something had occurred. "HEY! Get over here, quick!" agent Max Sterling's voice breeched the silence over the coms.

One of the guards, dead. His neck snapped, bones from his spinal column jutting out from beneath the skin, and pierced through it in shards that tore muscle and larynx in the same crushing blow. It had happened in a horrific manner, clearly, from the last remaining look on the opaque face of the man twisted on the ground. Footfalls alerted Max of his partners running to his position until they were in sight of the corpse, strewn in the grasses before him, once hidden by foliage that the agent had moved aside. Upon its discovery it was clear more was at work, calling in body after body that was found over the short waves as they spread out to check the remaining area. This did not look good and soon, rest of the bodies were found, each one distorted in its own sick and perverted manner; though each a quick and almost painless death in itself. All necks had been snapped, either from the front or back, the skull of one particular fractured from the force exerted upon it when the snap was made. Max radioed Headquarters to let them know of the situation with the bodies once the rest had been discovered; while two of the other guards, Harold and Ken, breeched the house. Clearing room by room, both kept in constant radio contact until all lower rooms were designated, and upper levels were further cleared within the remaining time it took for Max to collaborate with Headquarters. The confines of Captain Redfield's quarters were left emptied. Personal effects were strewn about the rooms shown to b his own personal sleeping areas, however nothing here suggested foul play apart from the fainted trail of blood on the ground mingled with dried saliva where he'd been dumped unceremonious at the beginning of this endevour. There was no sign of Captain Christopher Redfield or his gear; reported to by each soldier, then further relayed to Headquarters.

General alarm was sounded by H.Q. and base was immediately put on lockdown, closing down any personnel and restricting all movements until the recovery of Captain Redfield was located. Anyone known to aid or abed him in escape of the B.S.A.A. base, would be prosecuted as an accomplice to the murders of those found at the abode of the captain. In normal circumstances this might deter those there on base, but upon notification that this information was on Capt. Redfield made it more complicated. Many men would put themselves on the line for the partial founder of the bioterrorist organization if he would ask them, even if accused of murder. He was a man well known, and they'd have to ask fast. Eyes in the sky would be necessary. Medical personnel were issued to Chris's home to read what the corpses could tell them of their demise, and to dispose of the bodies. Max gulped, nodding uncomfortably toward the body that was being zipped within the plastic bags and lugged toward the truck; the head had been practically severed. "I don't know what's going on. Captain Redfield couldn't have done this... these were good men." Dark thoughts had begun to collaborate between soldiers, each one getting more and more plausible the longer they considered the possibilities. What if Captain Redfield did this... what did that mean for the B.S.A.A.?

In tandem with the investigation; an emergency meeting was called to order for those who had been present during the declaration of captivity on captain Redfield. The subject: Redfield going AWOL. Four men found dead at the residence and without communication from the captain since then it had to be assumed he was to be responsible for the deaths of these men. And unexpected act against the organization. Having helped to form the bioterrorist units, it was never considered he might act against orders and rebel, but now this was a very real threat. The Generals at said meeting were discussing what was going to happen next in their internal investigation when a knock was heard on the door. A solider emerging; straight backed in posture as one might expect of a good soldier. "Generals, sorry to interrupt, but there has been word... Several scientists from Quarantine Facility have asked permission to meet with you. They are in very rough shape, Sirs, they are in a state of panic, probably best to hear them out sir," said the soldier who was guarding the door outside. He was given specific instructions that no one was supposed to be allowed to interrupt their meetings unless it was personnel from the Quarantine Facility with news that might pertain to the escape of their missing captain. The scientists there could have new information about what they were studying at any time and they were told to forward any breakthroughs to them immediately considering the security levels of their latest experimentation and the high alert. The last thing that had been wanted would have been the captain to go after his sniper, after they had finally won the battle to study this material in their own leisure.

"Admit them immediately," General Stephens warbled to the guard. Both scientists which were then admitted into the meeting room shambled within and to say that they were worse for wear would be grossly understated. Littered with blood stains which leaked and bled through their clothing, of their own, and of others soiled white lab coats, along with singes and burns that coated them in the stench of burning hair, and roasting pork. Their clothing was damaged and both were in stammering in a state of panic. The male, Dr. James Black and the female with singed hair was; Dr. Reby Kline. They worked with the head of B.S.A.A.'s Medical Research Team, Dr. Sandra Blaine. None of which did not go unannounced upon their entry however unnecessary. Dr. Blaine used to work for Tricell doing virus research in a time when th business was secretly funded and operated by Umbrella agents and one Excella. She also did unethical experiments on human subjects to better understand their viral counterparts. When Tricell was taken down, she was going to be sent to a secure facility. A prison main for all those who had been judged guilty for bioweapon manufacturing for life. That had been until some government officials and the B.S.A.A. gave her an offer she couldn't refuse. She could continue her viral research and do any sort of experimentation she wanted as long as she worked for the B.S.A.A. and shared her finding that were credited only to the anonymous security of the B.S.A.A. They would give her key projects to work on and she had to report to the Generals and Director of Headquarters and them alone. She took the deal to avoid prison and so she could continue what she was doing. Dr. James Black and Dr. Reby Kline were her co-workers at Tricell and they were offered the same deal as Dr. Blaine. They both did not want to go to prison, so they opted to work for the B.S.A.A.

"Doctors Black and Kline, Calm yourselves. Tell us what is going on. You are supposed to be restricted to the Quarantine Facility. Has experimenting on Agent Nivans been successful so quickly or have you come to us under other pretense? What is the status of your work thus far?" General Stephens rumbled, eying both suspiciously. Of the scientists that were refurbished to them by Tricell, these had been the most promising to come up with functional information on both the enhanced C-Virus, and its host. Both of the doctors looked at one another and took a good look around the room, judging the faces in the room who were privy to said information. They wanted to make sure they were safe, but still, they were shaken up badly calming their own nerves in the proess. "General Stephens," Kline began, breaking the silence. "We just escaped from Hell! You told the staff at the Facility that Agent Nivans would do nothing but allow us to conduct our research into the effects of his strain of the C-Virus. We were assured that his utmost acceptance to our circumstances were understood. We were all led to believe that he would prove to pose no danger to our staff... but, oh _GOD!_" Reby's scream echoed hard across the room as she had a flashback. Her tears were clinging like a waterfall to her smooth countenance holding onto James for support as she sagged.

"Explain yourselves!"

"Agent Nivans…everything was going fine…" Reby took a moment to calm down as she recalled what happened, memories fresh in her mind. "Dr. Steen examined Agent Nivans' arm at first and did all preliminary exams, but Nivans killed him during the examination, just... there was death everywhere." Reby said as she left out what sort of examination of the arm it was. Everyone in the room knew the staff at the Quarantine Facility violated every sort of medical protocols known for human trials and examinations however there were reasons it was called 'don't ask, don't tell.' Such things were irrelevant as long as  
the end result was what the B.S.A.A. and their backers required. "After Dr. Steen was killed, Dr. Blaine took over Agent Nivans' case. She continued where Dr. Steen left off and we were able to get some data about the enhanced C-Virus' healing properties. There were clear differences to it and the normal virus we've seen react in those designated 'J'avo.' The examination was going well until Agent Nivans asked after a cure. We were never told he was not of the understanding that his circumstances were permanent. Dr. Blaine…._informed_ Nivans that there was no cure for his strain of viurs. It was then that Nivans…"Reby shook again as she recalled Piers fully transform person. Not only killing Dr. Blaine and the scientists in the room, but devistating the entire facility. "Nivans-

"Continue Dr!"

"HE TURNED INTO A FUCKING _MONSTER_! HIS SCREAMS WERE INHUMAN AS HE KILLED PEOPLE! OH GOD! HE FRIED THEM…BURNED EVERYONE HE COULD…THE BURNED BODIES…THE ELECTRICITY…OH GOD!" Reby screamed again in terror to everyone in the room. She fell to the ground and was shaking in fear.  
The Generals in the room in shock about what they were told. They did receive some data from the Quarantine Facility since Piers was there for four days, but it was not nearly enough. Not enough for it to be put to an end after so short a time.

"Dr. Black, we must have the finished report before we can release you both for medical attention to recover. We must know everything that happened. Please continue where Dr. Kline left off," General Stephens grumbled unhappily through grit teeth, hissing at the news being relayed to them. Of course Nivans had fought back, the boy wasn't painless to their procedures and no doubt unethical behavior was observed. They couldn't have anticipated full cooperation. He was the most docile soldier they'd ever been sent, but even a sleeping bear would attack when provoked.

"Generals, I was not in the research room with Agent Nivans and the others when he transfigured," James began. "I was on a break and I went outside for some fresh air, a smoke. Suddenly, I heard screams from inside the building and the lights were exploding from the inside out. I could see…electricity all around the building and it was so strong that the lights outside blew up as well, all the perimeter mini-suns rained glass down on us. There were soldiers outside…the usual guards…and one of them saw a..., a man. He…the man was huge, mountainous even. His eyes…oh Lord, his eyes were red blazing red. The only ever time I've seen color like that was working for the chairman all those years ago. The malice in them... He wore black and green, appeared to be military gear, some tactical things; and he was clearly armed. The soldiers told him to stay where he was, but he ran…I don't know…, he moved so fast it was a blur! One moment he was standing across the field and the next…" James took a moment to calm himself and the thundering of his heart, "a head…that guard's head was next to my feet… The next thing I knew, everyone else outside was killed. It happened so fast and the man…no not a man…a fucking demon… was covered in blood, dripping it as he went towards the building," James quivered at the reminiscence. "I persued inside the building even though the entire building was covered in an electric boundry of sorts. As I ran inside, I saw Dr. Kline in a corner and I joined her. She was injured and I was feeling my skin burn from the amperage of the electricity coursing even just along the walls. And then…OH GOD… that demon came in and saw us. We tried to reason with it, we didn't want to die, but he was going to butcher us. We ran further inside the building." The generals all appeared as exhausted by the report as they were all exasperated. All knew where these statements were headed, and already they were falling behind the oncoming manhunt. "Death awaited us no matter where we went. Luckily, the electricity was starting to wind down, so we ran towards the research room were Agent Nivans was being contained at the time. When we got inside, Nivans had collapsed to the ground and that…that fucking demon went to him. That monster knew who Agent Nivans was, even made a show by calling him by name. Reby and I ran out of the building while we had the opportunity. We got the hell out and never looked back until we got here. Please, you have your report! James said as he could no longer stay calm.

The Director was constantly observing the entire situation, his fingers steeped together as he watched the two recounting their events of horror, listening intently. It spun well. He had reports from the guard on the other side of the buildings as well to account for. For the most part, they all called forth the same memories. Agent Nivans narrowly destroyed an impenetrable fortress effortlessly when provoked, and there was a man with red eyes. Two monsters. He knew the reason the young sniper Ace had ceased permitting the actions. Of course he was willing to be their guinea pig; even after what happened, no doubt he would have continued out of his moral obligations. Agent Nivans was an amazing recruit, if not for a certain captain they would have had their answers long before now. Ever since China perhaps. He kept Captain Redfield in line in the field though. Destroyed the Haos, and basically spent three years with the best track record they could have hoped for with an unwavering loyalty. He would have suffered for killing those people after he came down from that little contact high from what they'd done to him. They pushed the envelope. When they got him back, there would have to be a degree of precaution taken. With enough convincing and restraining, he could be kept without trouble. As far as their research went, they weren't nearly close to finished, they hadn't even begun. Piers would be good for them with enough positive reinforcement. It was evident that there was a great deal that the sniper was keen on doing the 'right' thing, no matter the cost to himself.

However, retold accounts of this red eyed demon were things that bothered him. He'd heard back from the guards and these men here that there was a devil on scene. One hell bent on kidnapping their little experimental lab rat. Before that, there were reports from men that the guards watching Captain Chris Redfield had escaped his house arrest and taken four agents out with him. That meant to him that there was little to say about this matter. It was evident who it had been. If Chris Redfield had been infected by the sniper in his time on lock down by the captain, it was time he was brought in as well. Stealing away research that had to be completed could not be permitted. "I appreciate your loyalty. Go rest." He waved off the scientists, fully aware of the blood on their hands despite their whining. "General... if Agent Nivans held back, and we know the electric bursts he uses are capable of destroying entire facilities without restraint, that means he had a reason to withhold himself. That also means we have means. He is responsible for several deaths. He knows it. We can use that to bring him back in. No way a kid that clean turns away from his obligations to those people's families. So he'll be easy enough to sway for our cause, but we need to contact him. Call in the Special Operastions Unit. Get their explosives expert in here to tell me the location of the nearest electromagnetic pulse device, we'll use it and its radar to find Nivans. He's got an electro-signature we can trace because of that enhanced C-Virus. And do me a favor, call in Captain Valentine."

The call was made, and Jill Valentine received it in urgency from the Director of the B.S.A.A. recalled to the conference room. It took a matter of only two hours to call her in from the training facility where she had been stationed. She had no idea why she was being called, but Jill figured it was finally time for another mission. It has been over six months since she was in the field and she was ready for some action after being benched since the Kijuju incident. Jill was immediately let into the room without question and the Director, along with all Generals were present. "Generals..., Director."

"Captain Valentine, we have a mission for you. Word will soon spread and we must act before rumor begins to form. I regret to inform you, Agent Piers Nivans has gone rogue." jill's features hardened at Piers' designation. She had never trusted the younger sniper for a partner of her old friend, but news of this caliber was never well received. "As you know, he was infected with a strain of the C-Virus when in China, and responsible for the destruction of Underwater Facility of Neo-Umbrella. After some well deserved down time for his service to this country, he was taken to our Quarantine Facility so a cure for his affliction could be uncovered." General Stephens debriefed agent Valentine. The news about Piers going to the Quarantine Facility was made known to squad captains and those of higher rank already, and many applauded his duty to United States, and hoped a speedy recovery, though many knew the effects already to be had of any cures on those already infected with the C. "Well, Agent Nivans seems to have fallen prey to the effects of the virus on his mental faculties and killed several people at the Quarantine Facility. He very nearly destroyed the building as well with only two survivors. Worse of all, we fear Agent Nivans had assistance from one Captain Chris Redfield. Captain Redfield is possibly infected. The men guarding his home after we placed him on house arrest were killed. The bodies were found this morning." Jill was in shock, she couldn't believe what she was hearing but teh stoic face of a captain in her position shown bravado through its entirety. There was no way Chris would have done these things and Piers Nivans was a Boy Scout! Piers had the cleanest record she has ever laid eye on. Could the virus have warped him that much? "Captain Valentine, once we have the location of Agent Nivans, we will send you and a team to bring him in, alive if capable. It is imperative that Agent Nivans is captured to further research the chances of a cure. If Captain Redfield is there, then he must be captured as well. Assemble a team and wait for deployment Captain Valentine. You are dismissed."

Jill's deployment was sudden and not entirely uncalled for. Two of the BSAA's best were rogue, and her partner, ex-lover was infected. Whatever the case, she wanted to be the one to bring him in, not one of those headhunters that the program used to take care of 'internal' conflict. Taking control of the on-board staff at the base, she immediately began her business. Bring them in, without harm, or with whatever means necessary. The voice of one of Chris' newest met her ear and caused her gut to ache even thinking that they were hunting their own. "Captain, are we suppose to treat them as hostile?" That _was_ the question at hand wasn't it. Chris would ruin people if he was on the offensive and depending how infected he was there were real concerns what he could do to people he once cared for. Especially if he was in the mind to kill them and ask questions later. Piers and Chris were B.S.A.A.'s best marksmen, and if they had weapons? "Yes, let the men know. If they have any reservations about their safety, open fire. Keep eyes on target, high and low. You know our guys. They've been partners almost 5 years. Do not show your backs and keep your eyes in the sky. Piers Nivans is the best sniper state side, and if his choices have been compromised we can not allow ourselves to be confident."

* * *

**interludeeee**


	8. Chapter 8

Chris was the first to wake up, and for the first time late. It had been years almost a decade since he'd slept in later than the rise of the sun. He took a good look at his Piers, still strewn on the blanket beside him with his chest heaving for struggled breaths. He worked hard to get this far, and after hearing the things he had the previous night, all his conviction to continue the fight. It wasn't impossible to imagine the nightmares. But he didn't want to wake him, so carefully, he released Piers from his grasp, hugged into the crook of his thick bulged bicep and cobra like forearm; and covered him up with a blanket. Chris could see that Piers was still sleeping, despite be jostled, beads of sweat hugging his face as he curled inward; sparks of electric dancing over the young man's taut abdomen. One last look at him, and he put on some pants to go outside. Chris closed his stony eyes and took the time to think about everything that had happened recently. So much had happened in such a short amount time and everything in turn had been dropped on it's head. Turned upside down, until he could just barely make out every important detail. He just wanted to run; get away from everything. As a soldier, Chris Redfield would never had considered turning his back on his fellow soldiers and leaving them to rot. Or to allow the bad guys to roam free and use America as their petri dish, however upon infection? The fight or flight instinct had forever drifted toward fight which in the natural order would have veered opposite for a normal man. Cowardice. That was how he'd seen it. Even to the point where he and his sniper had gone through hell just to rescue the son of the man he had spent a lifetime trying to off, only to loose Piers in the last minutes of their mission. It was hard to say, but he did loose him. For those few seconds, watching the Haos turn his body to ashes and the torment on his partner's face. Death took the one person he'd spent a lifetime trying to find, and only then did he realize it. But then the injection had occurred. The mutation. After that he was truly lost. Not in the sense one would imagine; Chris had brought him home, despite attempts to kill himself, but he was never the same. The voices in his head, the fear to leave his soldier alone with himself. The sudden disappearance that had made the young man everything he wanted... was gone. He was distanced, torn apart by the virus that raged through his body and he fought to contain. He had him back, finally. They could connect again, see one another for who they really were, and of all the things, Chris couldn't imagine loosing that now, not after everything they'd been through together.

There wasn't a question anymore of fight or flight. There was only Piers; and Chris wanted to take his lover far away and never look back after what happened at the Quarantine Facility. After what they'd done to him; and what was most likely what the boy was dreaming about in the rooms secluded..., but Piers refused. Chris even opened up his mind and soul to Piers…showing him why he wanted them to get away from it all, and his Piers refused. His sweet Piers wanted to fight the good fight and fix all of the corruption in the world that Chris revealed to him. Piers was so stubborn, but Chris loved him for it. 'I guess someone has to keep me in line and Piers has always done that.' Even in the field, Piers was always there to make sure his Captain stayed on the right path, prodding his sense of morality, and even going so far as to use the deaths of their team mates to remind him who he was suppose to be. But now, things are different. The B.S.A.A. will come after them. They may send headhunters or a special squad after them due to him being a traitor and Piers being considered as a prized lab rat. Piers' conviction had never become a problem for him before, since they were always running in the same directions. First Edonia, China, now here. But he'd never questioned it before, why it was the sniper seemed so Hell bent on saving the world from itself. He knew what it had to do with. That shining record and countless gold stars in his files, with the blotted out words from Black Ops, and a family history that didn't exist. He never had a reason to question all of that until now, until it suited his purpose. Chris had a good idea about what may happen here and he was not worried for himself. He knew that thanks to the virus, it was unlikely that physical torture would even affect him, but there were worse things in like than physical pain. Chris also knew there were no cures for either of them, so this situation, whatever one they were in, it was permanent. Piers had this tenacity to think he could fix everything and now that they were facing opposite ways, now that he wanted to cut and run, Chris couldn't help but wonder why it was Piers couldn't turn his back on the atrocities he claimed a right to fix. What would hurt Chris would be the pain Piers would go through if they were captured. 'Heaven help them if my Piers gets tortured again. I will kill them all.' The sounds of his partner rustling where he was reached his ears speedily, knowing the unique hum that the younger man let off before grimacing at the scorches that lined him from his night terror. Better off not leaving him there that way, alone, so he opened his eyes and went back inside. Both men would need to clean up before starting their day, before setting themselves to the task of readying for this war.

Piers was up after Chris was, and a startle came from it sure, since Piers had lived by his natural body clock since he was a child, yet here he was sleeping through the night with the captain's arms around him. At least that's what he thought... the dreams he had woke him with a start, jerking his body awake as his muscles contracted in around the thirty needles inserted into his body slowly withdrawn by the scientists who put them there to begin with, syringes pumping him full of a thousand serums. Nightmares... only a nightmare. For a minute he thought he'd been back in the facility, their hands prying the skin from his body. Muscles, sinew and tendons cut down to the bone to observe the level of regeneration his form could reconstruct. Lightning had dug scores in his flesh, along with deep gouges where he'd clawed his own body in his sleep. Sitting up from the 'nest' the captain had made around him, finally dragged himself up off the blankets nude, the chill of the morning bringing more attention to his naked state, looking at the healed cuts and scrapes and his olive skin soft and new over that mutated extremity. He hated it... the way his fresh skin appeared like that of an eel, mucus slick and compelling him to take a knife to it and gore it from his body just to feel normal. That arm never felt right on him, not after China. Sounds from below alerted him to his partner's presence; a small unconscious smile worked over his features before swallowing down all his feelings for the man and reaching for the bag Chris had packed of clothing. Sliding on regs to wear that clung tight to his thighs and hugged his hips well; along with a shirt that accented his muscled lean form, he couldn't help but take note of the fact that his captain was a terrible judge of sizes. Of course Chris would pick him his tightest clothing imaginable. He shook his head, sliding into duty boots as well. He was efficient and speedy, throwing open the door to the bedroom and descending the staircase all the way to the basement without ceasing to check for his commander; searching for, and finding rigging for himself , hopping with ease upon the counter top that he tucked his leg up and hugged his knee in atop. Slipping it around his upper thigh first, before working the second around the same area only inches below. A ritual he had had since he was a little boy. What five year old is trained to set up rigging for their person, and trained to do it until it hurt? He tightened the straps, feeling them cinch around the muscle until it bit his skin tugging tight upon taut limbs, shaking his head to reprieve from the memory. Damn Chris for having brought up his past. He sufficiently had dismissed it all until his Captain had mentioned so insistently he say something, like a revelation had come to him. The strap was digging into the fabric over his thigh to gnaw some pain surely cutting off some circulation there before snapping back to reality.

No doubt the captain heard these actions as Chris went upstairs to get dressed for the day, noting the absence of his long lost sniper. He could hear his Piers get prepared for the day whilst he got dressed himself. Taking a few seconds in a mirror, rough callouses prodded at the shoulder muscle that Piers' claws had sunk into prior that night. Flexing the muscle, it was clear the skin was no longer compromised and noticed that his 'normal' skin grew back almost instantly overnight. He went to his bag and took out a shirt along with socks and his combat boots. Upon getting dressed, Chris went downstairs to the basement to grab a 9-0-9 handgun, a combat knife, an overkill amount of ammo, and an assault rifle. It was an old habit of his to be prepared no matter where he was. When they were kids, Chris use to stockpile weapons and he recalled his sister Claire berating him for it. His reasons were always a lopsided grin and a chuckle about wanting to be prepared when the zombies took over the earth. Fuck you too karma. He knew Piers ritualistic routines, memorized since the day he'd partnered with the younger man. His easy to read want for security was a sure bet to find him where he placed his sniper rifle the night before to scope the area, so Chris decided to go outside and aid the endeavor as well; using his senses to check the area out; whilst his ears picked up the sounds of combat boots and graceful movements collecting the weapon in the upper story window and checking it over out of habitual nature. Taken apart and put back together, as though in the night some invisible creature would sneak in, pull the firing pin, and vanish.

Chris was visible still from the newly refurbished weapon in Piers' clutches, able to admire it cradled it like a lover as Piers one eyed the captain from his distance, gauging the specs and accuracy by following the target he knew best. Watching the older man concentrating, his eyes were like an eagle's, taking in the sight before him much like he had many times before, from a dozen missions that replicated these circumstances. At least his still hazel eye was sharp, the same could not be said of the moonlit silver; ego bruising and completely useless unless he was overloaded with electricity. There were so many issues with surveillance on this location, too many weak points that left it wide open to attack; but using his own senses properly and Chris' enhanced ones, it was easier to manage than without. It made it all the more horrifying when chopper blades thrummed in the distance, bouncing off the trees and side walls of their 'secret' hideaway. Lying prone just inside the window, his body tightened every muscle, eyes trained on the horizon through the scope. Fuck they were prompt. B.S.A.A.'s Special Operations Unit was infamous for their timing, down to the letter, and even though he'd had hoped for more time to talk through his plan, or lack there of. It wasn't underestimated of their men to come searching in tow... Well..., they had to go in sometime, better sooner than later, and better now than never. Walker would say that after every mission they'd had together; referring of course to having a good woman, but it reminded how far now they were from the S.O.U. and then men they'd fought to protect. Now the tables had turned, and men like Andy Walker, and Finn Macauley were the one's who were hunting their own. Using the scope, he slid both himself and the rifle coiled in his hands to a knee, dirt clinging like a fine layer of camouflage to his fatigues and front; carefully observing the progress the chopper made, without seeing it. It was heard before visible, but with training like theirs it came into view of his single eyed mistress within seconds of its alert. Had his rifle been a woman he'd be giving her skin a coating of goosebumps with his finger curling and uncurling, itching poised at the trigger. His second hand pushed back along his outer thigh, sightlessly taking hold of the grip guard of his once standard issued 9-0-9. Dropping eyes once toward his captain; he delicately raised the gun, squeezed the trigger once, letting the sound echo for his Captain, as well as a warning shot for those on the chopper with good enough hearing to recognize it. Contain yourself; these are your men Nivans. Be patient.

Chris heard the chopper blades a moment before Piers did and then the gunshot from his Piers. Ever the vigilant soldier, giving those bastards a fair warning instead of letting them walk into a bullet meant for their eye. If they could have wanted, they would have had this place rigged up for taking down an army with the skill between them. They were both well trained in the inner workings of the Special Operations Unit, meaning this was standard for them, but both let it play out because of what? Because Piers wouldn't approve of the killing. Not of men he served along. Such a moral compass on that young man, and all Chris wanted was his safety. How completely fitting of his Piers. The captain resigned from his thoughts, and opened his eyes. It was time for action, ready or not. Extra ammo had been available and before ever exiting the basement he had brought up more than a bountiful amount for himself and Piers, along with some grenades that clung to his side now in preparation of this moment. 'Damn, they had to move in this quickly. Punctual goddamn bastards. I cannot fail Piers, I will protect him!' "Be careful, soldier." Chris muttered it from his position with a glance up at to the man he loved, locking eyes with those mismatched and his own stained red. He should have given him one more kiss, something passionate so Piers knew just how much the young man meant to him, no matter what happened to them. He hoped Piers knew what he was doing, in his opinion, this was at best, a terrible idea. Chris decided to meet the enemy head on.

He was a juggernaut, a force of pure physical nature and there wasn't a damned thing the B.S.A.A. could do to truly hurt him unless they got to Piers. Chris was ready to fight to the death, to fight to their deaths and steal away with the Bioterrorist task-force in a litter of ruin behind him. It was certainly interesting to Piers seeing Chris the way he was now. How nothing else seemed to matter but his own personal security, and he knew it wasn't entirely him, but the virus that had connected them. Knowing that, he wondered for a brief moment, why then that it didn't have the same properties with himself. Piers had always been drawn to the Captain Chris Redfield. Within the moments of his own dying breaths he had surpassed his own will to live, in exchange for knowing he could save the Captain with the injection that had been thrust so readily into his mangled shoulder. But after the serum within the syringe had done its damage he was no different inside other than the resentment he had grown to take on everyone, a result of his own hated reflection of himself. He was a soldier first, and a lover second. He sighed out, watching Chris go, but didn't think another second on it, slipping out of his position to grip the frame of the window and yank it open all the way. If he wanted to be stealthy he could have left it closed, give them less of a heads up. However, the idea wasn't stealth. Stepping out onto the adjoined roof, that met beneath his feet. Mismatched eyes caught a view of those men that had once served beside them and instantly his heart froze, losing the conviction he always carried into battle. Those people were completely innocent. His brothers- in-arms. Could he really open fire on these good men? He was after all, the man who never missed. Once he pulled the trigger there would be no going back from death that he left in its wake. So the question was..., how badly did he want to fight back, and how willing was he to go in? Because the decision made now would affect everyone here. The lives of the many always reigned victor in the mind of the soldier, clutching hold on the rifle butt that pressed firm into the junction of his shoulder. Deliberation. They better be ready for this.

* * *

Jill winced when she saw the predatory sheen of the reflective glass of the sniper scope on agent Nivans' rifle raise. He let them land that was for certain, or they were being led on. Chopper blades died down, setting down in a small clearing just four miles short of their destination but with their training, four miles meant shit. Chris' sniper could easily peg a chopper from from that distance, even Chris himself could have landed the shot with the set up they had before them, but instead their team was being led through the trees. Running with the gun poised at the ready, slipping up behind bark clad trees, one after another for a good deal of time, the team moved like a segmented snake, following orders against their own Captain and Assistant Team Leader. She was banking on a few things, leading them through like this rather than in formation, the most important being that it was Chris calling the shots on the ground. They'd been partners for so long, and this was his own men, so with the most Chris would be less likely to open active fire against them without some lengthy words had between old partners. That left the captain's short temper out of the equation, a temper she knew he had. She would have been deluding herself if she had pretended anything different considering Chris had been willing to let Albert Wesker fly off on a mission to infect the world because of his concern for her, rather than chase him. If she hadn't yelled at him to follow the would be god, then this would be a different story now. So yes, Chris had a volatile temper at best, but they were partners to the end. That left one other thing. Unless Piers was completely out of his mind there was no way the man would kill his own. Piers Nivans was the all-American boyscout sine his employment with the B.S.A.A. Never out of turn, lacking convictions, fortitude, bravery. He dared match Chris' lethal temper in the field, and questioned orders he knew endangered the lived of his men. That kid had infected himself for Chris just to save a man from China rather than come home alone from their mission. A fact that to this day Jill was always grateful for, but he and the ex-partner had never really gotten along. She was going to have to guilt him into coming in, rather than doing whatever 'right thing' he'd gotten into that delusional brain of his.

Chris was her priority, despite what the higher ups said. Alpha Team could take care of Piers, he wouldn't hurt them out of moral obligation, lucky for them. But Chris Redfield was her old partner, and she wasn't going to let anyone hurt them. Easier said than done, but she wouldn't have it. "Sniper up top." Piers made himself a target there, but kid was brilliant. The B.S.A.A. gave Alpha unit orders, ones that the sniper had clearly already anticipated. That he was to be brought in alive, meaning unless he shot off a round into someone's face from his position with rifle trained on them, then no one was going to fill him with holes. Cocky little son of a bitch. "Don't open fire on him unless he draws the first shot, but don't give him a reason to shoot you. Use your heads. Get him down, and bring him in. I'll take care of Redfield." These two were some of Special Operation's best soldiers and the most well versed in security protocols since they'd both worked as captains at some points in their career. Chris for and extended period of time. This was much more difficult than a simple snatch and grab, made more annoying by the fact that these two agents were well versed in procedure and using it to give themselves field advantage. Well she'd use whatever advantage she could get and she had a better one than boy wonder had. She had been Chris' partner, and if she took him in, Piers would drop that toy gun of his without orders. She couldn't risk some valiant-hearted agent taking a shot at the captain either, that was another thing to consider. He was never very careful with himself, the litany of scars was the testament to that, but she couldn't afford his bravery right now. Just come in safely and everything would be fine.

* * *

Chris spotted Alpha Team, his team, the one he'd raised and created from the bottom up sine his first days in making the S.O.U., _and_ his old partner Jill. The B.S.A.A. certainly was pulling all the stops to get them in if they were recruiting his own team and his old partners to come get him. Not surprising, he was a high priority subject, on the run, with means and opportunity to make Headquarter's lives a living hell. On top of the demented circumstances that the men they had come here to hunt were now the world's most advanced bioweapons on the face of the planet. Without Albert Wesker the corner on that market was available, and that made for a great P.R. stunt for the directors in charge. He could barely believe it as they exited that chopper and moved in formation towards their location, as though they were just another mark. If they had had any brains inside their heads they would have questioned these orders to come for their team captain, or the assistant team leader. Piers and Chris had been nothing but loyal to the B.S.A.A. for the last four years, and Piers so much to a fault, that he'd killed himself for the cause. Did they honestly believe these two men to be a threat to the country? Chris was in a relaxed position and could see his old team and Jill surround the area; relaxed because he knew these drills, he'd _made_ them. He felt no fear for himself, the team wouldn't or couldn't hurt him in any capacity that they were afforded. His concern was that he did not want Piers to be hurt however. Physically, the sniper was tough, more so than any of his previous partners and capable of regeneration and keeping distance when need be. After all he'd been a sniper. But it wasn't just physical. He was concerned for the sniper mentally. He was weaker than he let off being, and with their old team, it was a gamble having him up there with a rifle; Piers may not fight back. If that happened, Chris knew he would eviscerate everyone here, including Jill.

He didn't know when his concern or her well-being had taken a backseat to his own, but Piers was his main priority in life now and even though he did care for Jill, those feelings were miniscule compared to his devotion to that man. Chris knew that Piers thought the virus that connected them was the main reason why Chris has changed so much, but that is only partially correct. Ever since Piers became his partner, Chris' priorities shifted to him and his well-being. He genuinely wanted to make sure Piers was safe. He was a soldier, and a brave one at that. A man who could take endless punishment under the circumstances, and one he trusted in a pinch. He wasn't certain why he was so protective of the younger man, he was perfectly capable, and more than half the time during their mission in Edonia and China, he was the one taking care of Chris. But that was the thing. Piers was so reckless with his own life. So long as he could make any kind of a difference to the world, to his captain, he wasn't afraid to get dirty or even inject himself with a lethal virus for the greater good. It had taken all of that before he had seen how fragile Piers really was. Not physically, never physically, but mentally. It was after that, when he'd seen the truth behind the conviction that drove his partner that they became lovers. This was after the virus, after he'd saved Piers from himself because he wasn't going to watch an other partner die. It was the passion of living raging inside of them thatdrove them, their damaged bodies. A rough get down and dirty moment where the two shared far more than a bit of spit and sweat because of the shock of fully understanding how they felt for one another, even if Piers was still kind of hazy on his acceptance of his own body. Chris loved him, body and mind, he was him only years younger and so damn reckless. It was gritty and alive, and laid home the point that Piers belonged to him. Palms braced on the wall while Chris went into a lust filled passion over seeing his partner give himself over to him completely. That was the one time Piers had admitted to how he felt in words and it had resulted in... well, Chris' recent situation. Clearly he felt the same way for the sniper, the true feelings he had for Piers magnified so much that everything else barely mattered. He could hear Piers at his position on the roof and could feel the hesitation to harm his old team and Jill.

Chris knew that Jill held a resentment for Piers for a great many reasons. It started when he'd returned from Africa, toting her in turn like a China doll. Chris was worried about her safety. With three years of working hypnotized for the enemy, it wasn't exactly that hard to understand. He wanted to keep her safe, just like he had with all his other partners in the field. Chris Redfield was a good man. If anything could be said about him, it was that he was as flawed to loyalty as a Labrador retriever. But it was because he loved her. They'd been friends and partners through so much, not because he disrespected her. But he superseded her. Refused to let her back into the field and blocked all incoming orders to other divisions, whilst Jill was put on desk duty to recover from what happened. She was a great woman, but she was a woman, and she was damaged thanks to her involvement in the hunt for Albert Wesker. Then he insulted her further, by picking up a rookie partner from the bottom leagues of the United States Military, as a new partner. The first male partner he'd ever had. Someone not weak or fragile, but persistent and constantly driving him to be 'the best him he could be.' To be the man he had started out as and not get lost in the mayhem of Umbrella's wake. Jill called it "stealing" him from her. Even now she blamed Piers, for everything. A partner never left each other, and Chris had left her to her own devices once the world had opened up and showed him exactly who it was he needed to protect now. The shitty part being he was fighting his ex-partner, to defend his present one. He could feel the hate radiating from Jill, and felt a degree of fear from her and everyone else that arrived. No, this would be a challenge.

As Jill moved in on Chris and his position, she took a good look at him, taking in their circumstances like a proper agent. He was poised, in a relaxed pose, as though he were prepared to go for a pleasant walk, or invite them to dinner, _or_ put a bullet through their teeth; armed to the teeth with: his handgun, combat knife, and assault rifle. All weapons hugged his body in one manner or another, along with an infamous riot gun she recognized properly secured to his back like a last resort. Daring anyone to get close enough. Chris Redfield was a world class marksman, a clean target was hard to avoid giving him since anything cold be shoved into that category. She also noticed his brilliantly crimson eyes; a shiver of uncertain fright. They reminded her of Albert Wesker's vehement eyes. Wesker…the man who forced her to do unspeakable crimes for three years until Chris and Sheva rescued her, and Chris was sharing his eyes. Crimson where Wesker's were a sharp and catlike vermillion, but it was the intent, not the color that frightened her. Was Chris that man anymore, the one she could remember from all those years, the one who helped form the B.S.A.A.? Or had he become the "monster from hell" that H.Q. briefed her on? Was he the man she still loved and cared for? It didn't matter, no one was going in until Jill had figured out for sure. She had to know if Chris could even be saved and cured from the virus.

"Chris, surrender. Turn yourself in." Her melodic yet stern voice echoed over the open stretch of land from behind her position, clutching the standard issued 9-0-9 pistol grip in both her hands. "This is not you. I know you're infected Chris, and it has made you do some horrible things, but we can make it right. Its what we do partner. We'll cure you. You can't let the virus beat you, not now. You don't have to run. Please Chris, come back with me so we can help you," Jill pleaded. In normal circumstances it had always been captain Valentine who was the voice of reason for Chris. Even in the pits of hell where he had saved her form herself (and Wesker), had she had to command him to follow their objective and go after him. He would rather have stayed with her, and watched the world burn with Jill at his side than to go after Wesker. But she demanded it of him, and Sheva Alomar and her partner had taken down the worst of the worst. Watching him become the same as that monster was torture in its own. She wanted Chris to go back to his old self. If there was anyone to blame for all of this, it was Piers; because she knew he was the reason behind this transformation in Chris, in his becoming a monster. If she was allowed, she would torture him herself for what he did to Chris.

Her words however, were falling on deaf ears. There was no reasoning with a damaged mind, and though they were superior in strength and ultimately believed that they weren't bioweapons; the two former S.O.U. operatives were damaged minds. Mutated to think exactly how Neo-Umbrella had wanted them too, and neither could see it. They were designed not to see it. That was how Umbrella reeled in its creations. Made them think they were perfectly normal, while in fact there was no longer anything normal about them. But rather than hearing the reason in logical words; Chris took a long, hard, look at Jill and focused on what was behind the words she was saying. He used his empathic powers to feel out the emotions behind her words and several things to light: Fear, confusion, _hatred_, and love for him. She _still_ loved him, and to be honest, he was finding it hard to reciprocate those feelings he had once had for a great woman. He was pissed that Jill hated Piers; the kid hadn't done a damn thing wrong. Sure, he loved Jill like a little sister or a best friend; but those feelings were not enough to stay his hand if he had to do the unthinkable or to protect that which he had failed to do so for in China. His main priority in life was taking care of his Piers, keep him safe, and love him. Everything else took a backseat. "Jill, get yourself and Alpha Team out. You have no idea what is going on with the B.S.A.A. I will not allow you or the team _I made_, to stand against me. Piers is not 'lab rat.' Get out now before I kill you and the others."

An admission of intent... A threat. A threat against Jill? Against Alpha team? Chris was willing, and able to destroy those people that he had spent a lifetime protect? The very idea was making Jill sick. That he had announced this to the world, and before everyone, he'd let this virus make him choose to fight against her, to protect a monstrosity, or coming home where they could save him from himself. She could see red of Chris' snake-like eyes glowing and for the first time felt genuine fear. Not for herself, but for the man she had come to know and love for the better portion of her life. There was no way the Chris Redfield she knew would hurt anyone here. He even recruited some of the people who were here today. He had to be saying what he said to scare everyone, to get them out of harm's way in case something happened here. Ever the defending captain he was. "Chris, you really don't mean that! You are sick, you need help. You need to be cured. We can cure Piers as well," Jill pleaded. To be honest, Jill would rather kill Piers than capture him, especially sicne he'd proven himself to be a menace to society by infecting one of the best men to walk the planet. After he infected Chris with his C-Virus, everything had gone down hill. She'd seen the reports.

Upon observation, Jill could see Piers' sniper scope from it's place on the roof, a glimmer from glass, and she felt nothing but hate for the man who stole Chris from her. It radiated from her; Chris could feel the hate that Jill had for Piers. He knew that Jill loved him and they had tried to have a relationship, but things did not work out in the end. It couldn't have. After Jill was captured by Wesker and then saved by Chris and Sheva, Jill changed too. She felt dirty and used by the man; felt that she wasn't good enough for anyone anymore. She was so self- conscious about her changed hair color, the scars on her chest. Chris told her that such things didn't matter to him, but she couldn't stand being that way. Jill pushed Chris away and he was hurt by that action. She thought was doing the right thing, to spare him the grief of being with her, someone so damaged. And a year passed by that way, but then she began to miss Chris. She tried to see if they could give their relationship another chance, but it was too late. Jill saw Chris with Piers at the gun range, sniper practicing his constantly flawless shots, and his captain overseeing. It had been harmless, until it wasn't. No one else was around them, and yet Chris had spent hours with him, standing there, observing, talking while he took endless rounds and called out the targets for the sniper to hit. She hid herself, not to hide, but to observe, to witness Chris in his new environment, with his new partner. She saw it on Piers first. The glorified hero-worship that glimmered in his hazel eyes every time the captain would call a shot, or touch a shoulder, his hair. Chris never touched his soldiers that way. Grasped his fingers through his hair and tousled it that way. Even then she'd seen just how completely smitten that boy had been for Chris and she hated it. Seeing Chris suckered in over something shiny and new, while he turned away from her for being 'fragile.' After they had come home from the China mission, she'd seen them, when the escape pod flung open and Chris' lips were practically devouring Piers' mouth. Both of them kissing each other like it was life itself. Seeing that made her sick. Piers took advantage. Jill wanted to make him pay for that and now that he infected Chris, she wanted him dead. She would not defy her orders though, so she and Alpha Team would have to capture both men, and soon enough all were in position.

For this mission, Alpha Team was separated into two groups: Group A and Group B. Both had five men cells assigned to them. Hearing Chris' admission of intent, it was time. Jill decided to take action now bellowed out orders, "Group B, capture Agent Nivans. Roof position. Group A, remain with me to apprehend with Captain Redfield." Jill knew this would be the right thing to do in this situation, but prepared to attack, something happened that shocked her to the core…

Group B had began to move towards the house and in a burst of speed; their parts lay scattered, eviscerated. Chris had ripped arms and legs from their sockets, all appendages strewn across the field, along beheaded craniums of three men. Two men not only had their limbs removed unceremoniously torn from their stumps, but Chris literally tore their bodies apart. It only took a matter of a few seconds, but all five men lay dead; bleeding stumps of men,lying scattered. The men Chris brutally killed did not even get the chance to scream, shock or pain. And there he returned, Chris there in midst of the field; relaxed as though he'd been swatting flies, his eyes glowing a fierce crimson, and you could hear the soft hissing of air between teeth. There were blood and pieces of human flesh on his body, coating his normal gear and weapons, gristle from the corpses. He truly resembled the beast described in the mission debrief. Jill's pupils were blown, total shock at what happened setting in as her breathing hitched to a halt, with the reminiscence of what had happened not too long back, in Kijuju. She regained her wits quickly though, coming from a woman who had faced these circumstances a few hundred times before. Two of her men from Group A couldn't help themselves from the gristle and guts of their comrades splayed, and puked up what remained of their meals while three others never trained in this type of circumstance were in horror, but still held fast to their positions.

"My God, Chris! What have you done? Please Chris, this is not you!" Jill pleaded. She would have begged on her knees if it meant she could bring him in without hurting him, but there was their shining captain. The man that saved the world. More than once. The shining example of humanity, and here he was, a monster crafted by the very people who he had fought to destroy. Chris was incensed that Jill had the audacity to blame Piers for all of this. As though the kid hero had done this to him voluntarily. They were infected yes, but this wasn't as though they'd asked for themselves to be used by Neo-Umbrella's sick scientists, or Carla's vindication. He should have killed the Haos himself and died there, but his partner saved him. And not all things were not controllable. But there was no turning back now, and Jill could never understand that. He stayed his hand for the sake of the friendship and partnership they once had shared. Because at one time in his life, he knew loved her. Chris still cared for Jill, but it was so minor in comparison to his love and passion for Piers, and instead of this one sided feud, issued her one final warning. "Get out of here, Jill! Leave and never come back! Take your men with you before I kill you all! You know I won't lie to you, you know this is the end. I'm not a lab rat, I won't be contained, and Piers is not your guinea pig to torment. Leave, NOW!" As Chris yelled to Jill, and the remaining fragments of Alpha Team, his voice twisted into a distorted kind of hiss.

Jill's distressed voice carried easily, but the sounds; screams, tissue being torn, guts splattering, that drew Piers attention, and the captain knew it would. Seeing his men, the men they trained, cared about..., those people which they had spent so long to protect, being torn apart by his own Captain. Knees buckled, and nausea rolled round in the confines of his bowels, acid taste washing up his throat, before he couldn't help but vomit. Chris was naturally bonded to Piers, they were connected. That bond however, did not explain one's feelings toward another's actions. If it had, Chris would have seen; Piers' love only went so far. Watching the men that were their only connection to life, the one's Chris had spent a lifetime to defend, be decapitated at his own hands without warning or without any hesitation. Their lives, families, ruined. The vomit came to his mouth again, sour and foaming with stomach acid, but he swallowed it back, hearing Jill's voice carry as she called out. It was true, no matter what Chris wanted to believe; he was the reason that the captain, the indestructible captain of the B.S.A.A.'s very own Special Operations Unit was infected. It was his teeth that tore the skin from Chris' neck, and allowed himself to be brought back from the pits of Hell to being with. They may have treated him poorly, but this was cold blooded murder of men he cared for, _they_ cared for. Men who fought alongside him, protected him in the field of duty. The box of ammo beside him started to look more distant the longer he stared, men moving in from all sides, and after a brief moment he let his rifle drop. The delicate grip he maintained, loosening second after second until the fell from his hands, eyes locked unseeing, to the roof tiles beneath his feet. Raising both hands in the air, and looking away from his Captain for the fear of betrayal in his eyes. He was willing to fight for the B.S.A.A., but he wasn't going to fight the men they raised up through the ranks to do it. He'd fight from the inside out... He wouldn't put those he loved in danger. Chris may have only loved him, but he loved them all, they all came first above himself. "Chris, put your gun down." He wouldn't have to fire a single bullet. Just slipped a hand down to put his weight on, and jumped down off the porch rooftop, landing in a crouch. "We aren't fighting, not these men, not these people. You remember what it's like having to see those faces of their lost families? How Marco's wife looked at us when we told her how he died? We're better this. We take the fight to them, not take innocent lives."

Piers' words echoed through the air, and Chris could feel the pain that his actions caused the sniper; shock, and weapons found there way to the ground, instantaneous down. His Piers had no idea what was going to happen, what those bastards were going to do him once they were both in custody. Chris did not care about what would happen to him, but Piers…those goddamn fools at H.Q. and their backers wouldn't stop at torture. Not this time. Chris knew they would be at Headquarters soon enough and both he and Piers would be interrogated and tortured. There was no way Chris could prevent Piers from feeling any pain, but due to their bond, he could lessen what Piers felt. It was not nearly enough, but it was something. As for himself, he was not worried about what they would do to him. For the cold-blooded murders he did, the B.S.A.A. would probably ignore the Geneva Conventions when it comes to his torture. Chris mentally smirked to himself…they had no idea about what they were dealing with. None at sniper was right though, the inside out would be easier for those involved. Chris did not want to surrender, but Piers was not willing to kill everyone here and he did not wouldn't stand for Chris to do it for him. Chris knew that Piers wanted this war, but to be willing to go into Hell itself in order to fix things? They would have to endure a whole lot more than he wanted to in order to get where it was that the sniper wanted to go, in order to get into he confines of the B.S.A.A. and their higher ups. Particularly after their first escape went so easily. This was going to be a battle of willpower. More than that, he would have to wait, wait for the right moment to rescue Piers if he'd need it, and that will hurt him more than anything else. But getting on the inside will have one advantage: It will be easier to kill those who truly deserved it. Piers may be unwilling to do what needed to be done, but Chris will go all the way if needed. How else was he able to kill Wesker? That is something that had not changed with him. Chris calmed his body down and lifted his hands up in the similar fashion as his partner. "Alright, I surrender."

Piers watched Chris' guns drop, the fingers on his right hand twitching as he watched men, their own men, come in slowly, weapons raised at the ready to restrain them. There wasn't much that the people of Alpha Team wouldn't do when instructed by their Captain, but after this it was evident they all saw what Chris had done, what he had become. He felt the 9-0-9 at his hip taken, snatched up by the muzzle and handed over to their man in charge, and the grenades that he had left up top were gone out of reach. It was the hand on his wrist that made him wince, feeling it wrenching around behind his back. There was a meek voice in his ear, that of one he recognized as one of their newbies. Riley Kemp, he was their rookie before Piers had been put on leave after the accident. "I'm sorry about this A.T.L... Orders are orders." Didn't Piers know it? Orders were orders. If Chris had asked him to put on his big boy pants and man up for this and told him they would be killing his entire squad as an order, he would never have batted an eye until the killing was done. He was though, a soldier. One that wouldn't kill a man unless he was ordered to do it and it was for the betterment of society. He could have dropped every one of these men with seconds to spare if it had been delegated to him to do so. But this wasn't an order; it was Piers' request for them to fight this battle from inside out. Take out as few casualties as possible even if that meant returning to Hell to do it. His eyes rested on Jill, the older brunette striding up to Chris and putting her hand on his shoulder in that loving partner way that she seemed to try using to strong arm him into following her directions. He'd removed countless faces from men on the battlefield. Piers was renowned for being an agent apart, one that was without remorse for those he was assigned to take out; that was to be the next Chris Redfield in battle. He could have done it, would have done it, but wasn't ordered to do it. So he let his actions speak louder than words and let his team see he wasn't the kind of monster they were claiming him to be, even if Chris had torn through them. He would have shot for the knees, drop them like flies and let them live, but it was his own moral center that dictated the move to allow himself to be taken into custody. "It's alright guys, we'll get you a cure." Riley smiled hopefully at Chris, wrenching Piers' other hand behind his back before hooking them together, headed for the chopper in the distance.


	9. Chapter 9

Chopper blades whirred in the wind, massive wings biting the wind and turning it in swirls of an upward cast tornado, until it hovered and kissed the ground with a perfect touchdown. Separated. They wanted them separated, and just under a few hours time they had made the airborne choice to greet with another chopper, each one bound for separated locations. Like that Piers was gone, _again_. After all the shit, after every effort to get him free him from this eternal hell and they had walked right to Lucifer's door. Without so much as a good bye. His own chopper went along with Jill and her crew, back to meet with those men he'd served to insult by breaking away. No doubt in want of an explanation. He'd give them a goddamn explanation. The helipad was at the backside of B.S.A.A. Headquarters, not a place meant for interrogation that is for certain. No... they were going to take Chris to see the bigwigs. The top dogs. The men he'd insulted by his breakaway. Once there was touchdown, several soldiers began the long dubious march to cover all the exits, sealing off the area before there were any compromises in their situations. All had to be prepared before they were given leave to exit the chopper. Jill led Chris off the helicopter, followed by the remains of Alpha team. The remains that were more like a skeleton of a great team once comprised of many worthy soldiers. It did not go unnoticed by all, that only half their men returned with the captain in tow, and no bodies were returned. The young rookie was giving his commanding officer a look of curiosity. Of the time that Riley had been on Alpha after the incident, he had ben in action along with both Captain Redfield, and A.T.L. Nivans, both whom had shown their true colors easily. Chris and Piers were mentors for most these men and now they were monsters, but that didn't stop some of them from questioning command for what they were asking them to do. Piers had done nothing wrong when they came for them, and had quickly thrown up his hands even though they knew full well that with just Alpha Team going in after them, things could have turned into a true firefight. These orders to separate the sniper and his captain, and then bring them in for... questioning, was very suspect for men who knew them. Watching the captain, alone without war in his eyes, that was a sign.

Jill was speaking sweetly in Captain Redfield's ear, trying to appeal his human nature, that nothing would happen; trying to demand him to be civil for the higher ups so that he could 'explain' his actions to the Director. To make things right. Perhaps if things went smoothly, and all arrows pointed to the virus making him 'act out of turn,' then she could get him exonerated of the charges against him. Chris could still imagine the look on his Piers face when he shot a look at him upon their separation, one of apology. But of acceptance. He knew the older man could feel his emotion, his conviction to do this with as few casualties as possible, to make do with what they had. He was willing to let the depravity slide so long as he knew that they were doing the right thing. He was a soldier first, and so was his captain. They would follow their own protocols. For meeting with any of consequence, they would want to be imposing, using the main facility, since he destroyed Quarantine, and laid it all out on the line.

Without hesitation, Jill gave the orders to secure all levels; a firm grip upon her old partner's beefy shoulder. "Come on, Chris."

Chris knew that once they all landed that all bets were off. Jill was talking to him and telling him to be nice to the top brass, but Chris knew what was in store for him. Piers was already gone; off to some unknown location to an area to be interrogated and experimented on..., as though that wasn't unsettling enough. He was their 'prized lab rat' and Chris knew that H.Q. would want to get started on Piers as soon as possible, it was a sure bet they weren't going to care what the captain had to say to them, unless it meant their own salvation. Like an offer to go in quietly for his own experiments to be done. Piers' bravery was something of legend. His conviction, enough for both of them. A thing he could feel no matter the situation, that personally built love for his country and fellow men. Even if the captain could no longer feel those things for others, he did know what made his partner proud, and that much he could do. Through the maze of the building, corridor after secured passageway, he could feel the impending concern growing in his own mind over what it truly was they would do here. He had no fear of what they could do to him, but the things that the men of the B.S.A.A. had all learned the important art of twisting words to suit their truth. Formalities. It was all about making the proper formalities. Toward the conference room where Generals and the Director were located, all there conversing and deciding a man's fate. His fate. _Piers_' fate. As though they had the right to determine such a thing.

Jill led Chris to the meeting room; worry clearly read on her once immaculate features, now tired and drawn. Of the years spent together there was nothing that she could remember ever having regretted so much as leaving her friend's side, and to see him now, her heart had broken. Barely a word said to her even in aid of replying to her own statements, pleas for him to act himself and give this charade up and ask for forgiveness. It drew speculation to her mind, if there was any way to cure Chris of this sudden outbreak, bring him back to the man he was, or if in fact they were now trapped with this ruined version of the man. The hallways were not clear not all of them, and everyone who was present for the return of the 'great and ruined' Captain Chris Redfield could see Jill escorting Chris. Could see him, in the face of his elite headquarter's branch of men, designed for such protocols, giving scoff to the very name of Anti-Terrorism. As he walked down the long hallway towards the conference room, the captain's head held high; those red, serpent-like eyes on display for the world to see. 'There was no way he is a monster like Wesker was. I will bring him back to me. I will save you Chris!' Jill's thoughts to herself paraded in the same circular logic, seeing the confusion and disbelief on those around them, all those already who had given up hope, Chris as some kind of lost cause. He was not. The Generals and Director were waiting for them as Chris was escorted within conference room A, Jill shortly behind to wave away those onlookers whom would attempt a peek or hear a word or two of dismissal on the part of a long time hero. Once disposed of she entered as well, observing the somber silence that held, waiting for her as she escorted Chris to the middle of the room. On display like some animal.

He was still restrained with hands drawn back behind the small of his back. He observed all through mutated eyes, a couple of the Generals unnerved and shifting in their padded chairs hoping to avoid eye contact with the man who once been a founding member of this branch of military. Jill began her report, all attention on her and each unhidden word over how the extract had gone. The most interesting part being what they were compiling in the way of the captain's growing abilities. That, the Generals were very interested in, not so much the loss of their own men, or Chris' surrender, but how he had come to slaughter those people with such dramatic ease. Of course, they would make sure that Chris paid dearly for the cold-blooded murders he committed, but not until after they'd heard all they wanted of Captain Redfield's fall from grace. As Jill finished her report, she pleaded for Chris, making the case that he refused to do for himself because of his ego, or because of hatred she didn't know. He was such a stubborn man, she didn't care, she had to plead. "Generals, Captain Redfield is a well respected member of the bioterror task force, he is and always has put everything first. We built this company from the ground up, we are the ones who put these regulations in order. This is our responsibility, to fix it. He is not responsible for what he's done! He was infected by agent Nivans, never once before then has he acted in a manner less than expected of his rank. Please, you have to under-"

"_Captain_ Valentine! You are dismissed," General Stephens bellowed, waving the captain off with meaty had, bringing it back down upon the table before him with a thundering clang. Jill a worried glance passed between them, but didn't stay, escorted out by the soldiers that flanked them, door banging in its frame. Once the doors creaked closed, the Director's nefarious eyes met with the captain before him, fingers steepled, prolonged silence penetrating the air around them. "Well, well, Captain Redfield..., it seems we find ourselves in quite the predicament. Please..., have a seat." Nothing. "No?" And extended hand toward the only empty hair slowly returned to its strange construction, nodding. "As a hero of the B.S.A.A. captain Redfield I am predisposed to believe that the crimes you've committed against this organization, were committed without your own metal capacities... You are infected captain. Of course you will understand why we brought you in in such a manner, why we must do what we must do. As a veteran member of this organization, this meeting, is a courtesy. We are going to do everything in our power to save you from this disease, to cure you... as it were." They were empty words, the same ones he remembered hearing when Piers was brought back from the brink of death. They'd met with him, still screaming and trying to remove the thing from his shoulder with a scalpel. Before he'd come to accept that Chris actually saved him from that Hell. Knowing he was infected. And they'd come even then, before he'd figured out how to control his sanity. And they said the same things they were saying now, taking advantage, asking for you to sign over your lives. "You have killed men, good men of the B.S.A.A. _Kidnapped_ Agent Nivans from quarantine. A place designed to help men like you. You're partner. We are trying to cure him, yet you have become a..., butchering _beast_. According to Captain Valentine, you butchered five members of your own beloved Alpha Team, all of whom wanted nothing more than to bring you back to the me you've served, to save you..., from yourself. You are heroes, the both of you." Sarcastic smiles laid out on every man in the room, each one nodding pleased, encouraging with their lies. As though they believed any of it. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Say for myself? You people, have dictated where I go, who to save, what missions we've all gone on for years. You've dictated our suicides. You blame the soldier, turn us into monsters. And then what? Bring us home, experime-

"You are charged with manslaughter captain! A charge we can not overlook. We've asked you here-

"Dragged me here!"

"You've been brought here to atone for your _sins,_ captain. In hopes that part of the humanity that you used to build this organization might still exist. In fact, some are calling you and I quote, 'the demon from _hell_,' the 'devil itself.' It's clear the virus has already corroded your mind captain."

Chris listened to what the Director said to him and he smirked at him and everyone in the room. He knew damned well that these men and women in here were more evil than he could ever be. The blood on each person in here was monumental and the things he has done was nothing compared to their crimes. Chris stood proudly in the middle of the room; sense fear, revulsion, greed, and anger from everyone in here. He didn't give a shit about these men, about their politics. Piers however, did. So he would do more to restrain himself from killing those who didn't deserve it. Instilling fear would help in that endeavor and he could feel doubt from some of the agents in the B.S.A.A. about what the top brass was doing. Chris chuckled at the Director and the Generals in the room. "What is so funny Captain Redfield? You will be interrogated and _treated_ for what you've done!"

"Cut the bullshit, Director. I know what you and the other fuckers in here are doing. I know that all of the conflicts we have been sent to since the start of the B.S.A.A. were of your design. Yours and the backers of the B.S.A.A. To create and control B.O.W.s for your own uses. You bastards are guiltier than I can ever be. You are more of a monster than I can ever be and the blood on your hands could fill oceans. Treat me? You're going to experiment on me, on Piers. " Chris met eyes with each person in the room. He knew they would get angry at him, punish him for it.

"Captain Redfield, you will be interrogated and given the fullest extent of ... treatment, we can provide. By the time we are done, we'll have pulled every part of that..., that mutation, from your body, even if it kills you captain. We will... liberate you, in death." They would torture him, to death. The Generals were in awe of Chris. His physical prowess. If he could be given those capabilities by infection of the mutated C-virus from Agent Nivans, there were potential experiments to be done later. Who could survive that kind of infection? Why wasn't it the same as Agent Nivans' and could it be replicated by just a single bite? It raised another question. Piers hadn't given anyone any reason thus far to fear him. As far as they were concerned, the virus inside his body was stable to the point he could control it. He wasn't a risk at biting people, or his team mates, everyone could attest to it. So how had Chris gotten infected by the younger soldier in the first place? Evidently there was more to the story than Chris or Piers were willing to admit, but there was a reason that the Captain had gone after his second-in-command and it was time to find out just what connection the virus had between them. "General, send a report to the Doctor in charge of Agent Nivans' care. I want him questioned about the nature of the virus, how his thinking has been affected. Find out if this mistake with captain Redfield can be replicated. Find out how he infected the captain, and do it again. Whatever it takes."As for you captain…" The older man turned in his larger, leather chair, resting elbows on the table and leaning imposingly against them, resting his face on those older wrinkled hands. "You will be questioned, thoroughly. And make no mistake, if you do not cooperate than we will happily use extreme measures. Now that you are no longer considered humanoid, it's time we did away with the normal pleasantries. You will divulge what we want to know, and you will do so willingly... or not. But we will have our answers. Send him to the cells."

* * *

4 hours later...

Chris let them take him to the prison cells. In fact, the cell he would be occupying was supposed to be for Albert Wesker according to those involved. Someplace beneath the mountains in Colorado. Of course. There were half truths involved in everything. So they weren't hiding an Alien in the desert, just B.O.W.s, which they now categorized their heroic captain. Ironic that Captain Redfield would now be held inside that very cell intended for his former captain. He was taken to the cell, dragged there in irons, like a prisoner. Who was he kidding, he was a prisoner. They wouldn't hold back with C-Virus running through his system? Thrown unceremoniously into an iron wrought chair, soldiers secured his wrists and ankles with metal cuffs that were attached to the chair, nipping his arm hair just the slightest with twitch of discomfort. Chris knew Piers was taken somewhere else, but their bond still worked, he could still feel him, alive. Three hours in the dark, in a cell, chained up and left there to rot in silence, and soon the doors were cranked open to admit two interrogators, both he didn't recognize, though he was certain he would get to know very well. Doctors William Burton and Kyle Rice. Both men recruited to give interrogations that would violate the Geneva Conventions, without concern of the oaths once given. They certainly were not going to take their time with the captain. Apparently, the generals had chosen to forgo normal procedure with the captain, just wanted their answers without concern of how they go them. He was ready for that, not the tools that were brought in and if he was still human, he would feel a bit of worry. Scalpels, knives, needles filled with drugs to enhance pain, metal gloves, a couple of electric saws, picks, pliers, and a few other tools of the trade.

Chris took a look at the tools and then at both men in turn. He felt absolutely no fear at all. _'_ "Alright then Captain Redfield... where shall we begin?"

* * *

8 hours later...

"Why did you leave house arrest and kill the guards outside your home?" Chris was silent. "Why did you butcher the guards outside the Quarantine Facility? Why did you kidnap, Agent Nivans?" For every question asked, there was silence and a sickly smirk from the captain, his head lulled against his chest while another rally of questions bombarded him. As though these same tactics hadn't been taught to him in the U.S. Air Force, or when he joined league with the B.S.A.A. Chris wasn't stupid. They knew he could handle questioning. "Answer the questions!" More silence. Both interrogators knew the standard line of asking questions wasn't going to work, and harsher methods would be used, after they'd finished milking the Name, rank, and serial number, that Chris continually repeated. If they were going to treat him like a prisoner, then he would act like one. Doctor Rice brought over some of the tools of their trade; flashing metal before his eyes whilst turning the blade over and over in the mini sun headlight dangling over Chris' head. "For every question you do not answer Captain Redfield, we will use these on you," Brought over, a needle filled with unknown liquids. "This should work on a monster such as yourself," Doctor Burton cooed, leaning close to the captain whilst his partner lifted the needle for him to see. "It enhances the pain you'll feel, with a magnitude of five times the natural amount." Lowering the needle to the nook made by Chris' forearm and bicep, amused until the needle broke when it was thrust to his skin. Both men glowered, a quiet nod for them to try again. "Defective needle, Will, I'll use another." There were three needles total, two left. "Use them both on this monster. It's no less than what this butcher deserves." Both needles broke in turn.

"I thought you were supposed to interrogate me."

Both men put on some gloves, eyes narrowed in frustration. "We have just started, Captain Redfield, and you won't be smiling once we are done with you. Since it seems that you will not answer any questions, we will just get down to the _real_ business then."

* * *

1 Day later

William grabbed a pair of pliers. Chris' mouth, forced wide with an age old device that was once used for prying the jaws apart; and once crammed apart; eked the metal tongs in, centimeter at a time. Probing his mouth, metal clacked against enamel, taking hold of the first of many teeth; starting pulling teeth out one by one. The noises the tools made, loud and crunching as his teeth were being pulled, blood welling from the gums. Kyle grabbed a vial filling it with the drool and blood that gurgled out his throat around the device in his mouth and pliers yanking ferociously at the molars in the backs of his maw. "We can at least give this to the researchers." They wanted to try and replicate the mutated C-Virus, or at least study it's effects on those who they had designated monsters in their captivity. There would be a nasty surprise for them if that was the case. They could wound and maim however they pleased, but in a few hours, their dreams of making a study out of C-Virus, would come to a screeching halt. Torture lasted for three more hours before the interrogators became too frustrated too continue. A break was in order. Chris refused to answer any questions and no matter what sort of torture was inflicted so far, he showed no signs of pain, unwavering steadfastness. It was unnatural. "Will, time for a break, lets go see what the research team has dug up." Relieved of their presence however, revealed what he had not been able to feel before. He could feel Piers in pain. The Captain closed his eyes and concentrated on his Piers. _'No matter what they do to me, I will be fine. Don't worry about me, Piers. You must stay strong.'_ Chris knew that he could deal with anything the torturers here did to him, but he was worried about the former sniper, not on his own personal wellness.

* * *

2 Weeks Later

It has been two weeks since Chris was placed inside his prison cell and the torturers still have not succeeded in making him answer any previously asked. The intentions shifted from the will to gather information on the captain's plans, to what it was that made the mutated C-Virus react. What it was that were the extents of its changes to the human form. When the Captain did speak, it was to taunt and mess with those scientists that dared to join in the provocation of his condition. The funny thing about it, was that Chris deliberately hardened his skin, so when the interrogators came in to cut him with an electric saw, the blade broke, other implements just as easily dispatched. So it was that they got more imaginative with his treatment; and they tried other things such as metal spikes. Even when heated, the instruments of destruction were bent and broke on Chris' skin. Fingernails were pulled, yet Chris never grunted in pain, never showed that he was in any form of discomfort. Of course, why would the Captain show any signs of pain when he didn't feel any?

Researchers were puzzled. Captain Redfield could bleed, but he felt no pain? They had removed teeth and all of his nails, yet he had no reaction other than to ponder their actions aloud to himself, their superfluous attempts to elicit responses. It was then that theories became more extreme, Doctor Reese removed one of Chris' eyes with a scalpel, fascinated with how it looked. Chris let her take the right eye and as soon as it was fully removed from the socket, the orb itself withered. In shock, she removed the left eye as well, no longer concerned with trivial matters of human rights; curious of the lack of emotion given toward such an action on the captain's part. Who would not fear losing one of their key senses, and in such a manner? Yet, even with the Captain fully awake, he showed no signs of discomfort. "Captain Redfield, it looks like you are blind now, nothing to say to that?"

* * *

3 months later

"If I was blind, then why do I see your research staff moving off to the left. Or how his hands are shaking?" Doctor Reese could see her staff members look at her in shock, curiosity taking over where fear began. Lifting Chris' eyelid, nothing was revealed in the gaping hole but red. A glowing orb of some sort. Grabbing her scalpel, she inserted it inside that eye socket to see if she could remove it, but then a 'ping' sound was heard. With more pressure, the scalpel broke. "Was that supposed to hurt?" Researchers were baffled at how Captain Redfield could be under such torture and not feel pain. When they returned to his cell the next day, Chris looked fully healed. His teeth, nails, and eyes were back in place. This fascinated Doctor Reese further because if this could be replicated, then soldiers would be unstoppable. The next few weeks were more of the same as far as Chris' torture went. Acid was used at one point and while it did burn away Chris' skin, the Captain still felt no pain. This was insane and just impossible until the interrogators saw something black on the Captain's leg. "What the hell?" Kyle said. Another researcher was in the cell and after the acid was washed away, they could see an obsidian 'skin' on the Captain. "Aww, looks like you jokers finally found out. It only took you nearly two months," Chris said in jest to the others in the room. "What the hell is that!?" William said. Kyle tried to use another electric saw on the exposed 'skin' and the blade broke immediately. Heated instruments failed as well. Even more acid was used and nothing harmed the area. Chris gave them all an amused look and everyone realized they were played for fools. Captain Redfield knew all along that nothing they did would physically hurt him. Kyle was so upset that he grabbed the remaining acid, opened Chris' mouth, and made the Captain drink it. "That will fucking kill you! You fucking monster!" Kyle said in anger. The acid did burn… until it stopped. "You know, that tickled," Chris said in a distorted voice. The other occupants in the cell left in a hurry.

The researchers were getting desperate. They even had Chris' mouth open and a steady stream of the most corrosive acid they had was sent into his body for over an hour. The Captain felt no pain, no discomfort. Nothing. When they finished, Doctor Reese looked inside Chris' mouth and could see the burnt flesh inside. Yet, Chris felt no pain and when she moved back, he laughed. The laugh sounded so alien and surreal. Frightening. Horrifying. "You know, that was the first liquid you guys gave me in weeks." This was said in jest and the humans inside the room were so scared. The Captain was starved intentionally and it didn't work. He was still in the same seat and never needed to use the restroom or remove waste from his body. And as far was replicating the virus in others? It was an utter failure. It certainly wasn't due to a lack of blood since Chris bled constantly. It was due to the nature of the mutated C-Virus.

The Research Department had several "volunteers" to test the mutated C-Virus. It was a dismal failure with seven men dying due to their bodies being turned inside out. It was slow, painful, and each man died in such a horrific way. "Why did your blood cause such a reaction, Captain? Answer me!" Kyle demanded. The entire team was in the room this time and they wanted answers badly. Chris looked at each person inside his cell in amusement and lowered his head. Of course he knew why they failed, but he sure as hell wouldn't tell these idiots anything. Especially since he could feel every bit of pain his Piers was going through right now. What Piers was going through was horrific, and as much as Chris wanted to break out of here, the time was not now. Not yet. 'Hang in there Piers. Stay strong!'


End file.
